


Devour Prometheus

by ladybattousai



Category: InuYasha - A Feudal Fairy Tale
Genre: Canon Compliant, Ethical Dilemmas, Gen, Gore, Horror, Mindfuck, Post-Canon, Social Commentary, Suspense, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:28:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 28,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24179695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladybattousai/pseuds/ladybattousai
Summary: Searching for a missing Inuyasha, Kagome encounters a wounded Sesshoumaru and a clan of masked warriors whose altruistic mission may bring the end of youkaikind as they fight to preserve humanity.
Relationships: Higurashi Kagome & Sesshoumaru
Comments: 34
Kudos: 21





	1. Missing

**Author's Note:**

> This is a very dark and psychological story. On many occasions, readers have told me that this is easily the darkest story that they've ever read. Not because of the violence and horror themes, but because of the ethical dilemmas that arise in it. The way that it gets at the core of how we justify our actions as people. Of how we justify sacrificing others. No one in this story is purely good or purely evil. Even the most heinous and cruel acts are done for a reason. Everyone is a perpetrator and a victim.
> 
> As a reader, this story does not spare you. This is the best warning I can give. It's also the best reason I can give for you to read it.

Chapter One: Missing

Shapeless and heavy, an ominous blade intruded into the haze of Kagome's mind as she slept. It punctured through her dreams and tore whimpers from her lips. Her pleas, however, went unheeded as it sunk in deeper, its malevolent intent focusing into a once welcoming image. Dyed in familiar red and white, a vision of Inuyasha appeared before her, soothing her anxiety with the warmth of his presence.

"Inuyasha," she whispered. The edges that defined him solidified, burning away the creeping darkness that surrounded him. "I'm so glad you're here."

"Feh," the half demon answered, a fang clipping his lip, and he smirked despite her concern. He held her with his spirited gaze, his warm amber irises split by knifelike pupils. Easy relief began to fill her lungs as she soaked up the sight of him and his indomitable confidence. His brow furrowed. "Are you all right, Kagome? You seem worried."

"I'm sorry," she apologized with a blushing laugh, embarrassed by what must have been simply a nightmare. "I know I shouldn't be, but-"

"But you should be."

"What?"

"You should be afraid," he finished darkly.

His body shuddered and the self-assured smile she relied upon faded. Once brimming with life, his now confused eyes dulled behind a milky film. Blood trickled from the corners of his mouth and poured down from his ears through his thick locks of hair. With a sickening thump, his forearm fell to the ground, severed at the elbow. His other arm followed, splattering red when it struck. Knees buckled and his dismembering body collapsed into a heap of blood-drenched clothes and disjointed parts. Lolling to the side, his head then toppled from his neck and tumbled down the lumps. Across the ground, it bounced and rolled until it came to a stop before her.

Staring up with vacant eyes and blood smeared across his face, he rasped her name. "Kagome."

"Inuyasha!" she cried out as she woke up with a start. Stinging her neck and forehead, sweat beaded on her flush skin. Her heart pounded in her chest. Her gasping breath tore at her raw throat. She buried her head into her hands and felt a sob come on.  
It was all a dream. A nightmare. There was the smoky scent of embers from a firepit nearby. A source of comfort, she let its familiarity anchor her. This was real. That she knew. And her body started to slow down and relax.

She brushed away her bangs sticky with sweat and looked around the small campsite. Nothing more than a gentle, orange glow, she discovered the reassuring firepit beside her. Beyond it, tall conifers surrounded her like sentries, protecting her from the elements while she slept.

The cool night air then brushed against her moist skin, and she pulled her disheveled priestess clothing closer. With the heat from her terrifying nightmare cooling, the chill touch of autumn had again found her. Normally she wouldn't be camping so late in the season, but she and Inuyasha had been summoned by a youkai extermination emergency. After their success, they had begun the trip home. Even with him carrying her nearly the entire way, it was still two days of traveling across the rugged terrain of feudal Japan.

She gasped as a thought struck her. Where was Inuyasha?

"Inuyasha!" she yelled, finding her footing. Her eyes darted back and forth between the intertwined branches of the trees. Silhouetted in black against the moonlight, no hanyous sat cradled in their limbs. "Inuyasha!"

A dead silence answered her calls. Even the harmonious tunes of the crickets were strangely absent. She bent down, gathering up her quiver and bow. Slinging them onto her back, she scanned the campsite one last time for a hopeful glimpse of red. Finding what she expected and not what she wanted, she took a deep breath and entered the dark forest.

Moonlight lit her way as she wove through the undergrowth, its rays dappling the path in gray-blue. From the low-lying foliage to the reaching canopy high above, she poured over every shadow for him.

A warm sensation stirred in her body. Sharpening with every step, the tingle of electricity coursed down her spine and she knew instantly where to go. The prickle of purification magic swelled in the air, and somewhere beyond the curtain of trees was its source.  
Forging her own trail as she followed the magic, bony branches clawed at her clothing as she pressed through the undergrowth. Beyond, brighter hues of unfiltered moonlight peeked, promising an end to the dense forest. Her pace quickened, and she stumbled through the last of it and out onto a dirt road.

With needles and twigs tangled in her hair, she walked across the road and entered a large clearing that lay on the other side. Ahead, she could feel a tingling warmth. Rife with tall grass, she waded through the field, the silvery blades brushing against her. The intensity of the magic grew with every step until she unexpectedly found a hidden boulder with her foot. Catching herself before she could trip, she turned to examine the rock. Looped around its girth was a large hemp rope, which continued deep into the grass, its two ends curving away in opposing directions. Taking one length in her hand, she traced its path. The thick cord slid through her grasp until she felt a hanging piece of paper catch her fingertips. Lifting the rope up higher, she spied a folded streamer, and her heart sank with a foreboding realization. A powerful seal had been constructed in this clearing. Now knowing what she was looking at, she scanned beyond the rope to see the disrupted soil and bent grass that filled the circle-shaped barrier.

Letting the rope fall back into place, she took a deep breath before gingerly stepping over it and into the seal. Weaker than she anticipated, the barrier felt weirdly broken to her senses. She knelt to examine the overturned earth and to tug at a few shreds of bruised grass. In her brief yet intensive experience, even the most powerful seals didn't disturb the land they were cast upon. A struggle must have happened here. As she continued to sort through the trampled field in her quest to understand it, a strange shape stole her attention next. Out of place, it was the end of a wood rod, and she leaned forward to pick it up.

"The Staff of Heads?" she whispered as she retrieved what turned out to be an ornately crafted staff topped with the carved heads of an old man and a young woman. Lighter than it looked, she noticed a spattering of dots as she turned it over. Smearing when she touched them, the droplets dyed her fingers in their dark color. She rubbed the strange liquid between her fingertips, and then put it up to her nose to sniff. A metallic tone permeated its odor, and she knew before she tasted it what it could only be. Sharp on her tongue and completely inimitable, it was blood.

Rising to her feet, she saw the clearing with new eyes. Across the turmoil of grass and soil, generous sprays of blood clung, glowing eerily red when the moonlight struck them just right. The heavy pounding of her heartbeat returned as a wave of dread washed over her. More than a simple skirmish, a brutal battle had happened here, and as she stepped back, the scarred earth took a new shape. Disguised by the shredded grass, straight grooves dug deeply into the ground, their furrows growing more pronounced as they fanned away from her.

"Kaze no Kizu," she whispered the technique that only Tessaiga wrought. Then, she cried out. "Inuyasha!"

She tried to swallow down her ratcheting fear as the air carried his name into the night without reply. Soon, she was trampling around the circle, desperately calling out for the missing hanyou. In her unchecked worry, she nearly missed a pair of dark stains that led away from the barrier through the otherwise pristine sea of green. A short distance from where she had made her own entrance, the trails snaked toward the road. One was massive, as if a creature a bit bigger than a horse had been dragged through the clearing. Beside it, a smaller figure had been dragged in the same fashion. A figure the size of a man.

Doggedly chasing her only clue, she chose the smaller trail and made her way down it. Muddled with the soil, smears of blood lined the bottom of the trail, and she did her best to keep the worst from her mind as she searched for the distinct red of firerat fur. An unexpected sigh of relief escaped her as it ended emptily at the road. Combining with the generous pools from the adjacent trail, the blood clotted into thick blobs as it mixed with the dirt. Then it ended after a few short steps.

Ahead, she noticed wheel impressions surrounded by sandaled footprints. Kneeling down, she examined the fresh texture of the impressions. A wagon had been the destination for what had been dragged through the clearing, its trail remarkably clear even to her untrained eye. Rising to stand, her eyes caught a bit of white conspicuously tangled in the grip of a low-hanging branch. She reached out and plucked it. Undoing the knotted mass with her fingers, it was revealed to be long, thick, white hair speckled with red. 

A fresh urgency gripped her heart.

"Inuyasha," she whispered again, tears stinging her eyes while she clutched the hair. "I'm coming."

A sudden rustle of leaves and snapping twigs startled her before she could take her first step to his rescue. Spinning swiftly on her heel, she turned to face a lonely copse of trees that appeared like a solitary island just beyond the broken barrier. The sounds died quickly, leaving the night air silent again.

Motionless and wide-eyed, she stared at the distant clump of trees. Every shadow seemed menacing, transforming into terrifying monsters when she looked too long. Biting her lower lip, she willfully discounted them as figments of her overly excited imagination, denying them the chance to falter her resolve. Then as if anticipating her determination, another abrupt crunching of leaves made her gasp in fear.

She swallowed. Still, there was something there. She turned away to face the road where it wound out of sight into the woods. Fear aside, she had to make a choice. One was the path to Inuyasha, and undoubtedly the quicker she took it, the sooner she would be able to save him. Rubbing his lock of hair between her fingers, she then returned her gaze to the mysterious copse. She couldn't ignore the possible clues it might hold. Ones that might better ensure his rescue.

Gently, she set the Staff of Heads down in the grass, and then reached behind to retrieve her bow from her back. She had made her decision.


	2. Hidden Wounds

Chapter Two: Hidden Wounds

Kagome swallowed hard on the anxiety caught in her throat and headed back into the field. As she slipped through the grass, her eyes stayed on the dark cluster of trees, rarely straying.

Soon, she broached the border of thinning grass surrounding the copse. Ahead lay a thick blanket of leaves and twigs, and she realized that her attempt at stealth would end when she crossed it. Pausing in indecision, she wondered what to do. Sneaking through a field of soft grass was easy enough, but that was the limit of her skill. A priestess was not a hunter, and she was barely a priestess.

As she debated her options, a wave of demonic aura kissed her skin with goose bumps. Dropping the knot of white hair from her hand into her sleeve, she pulled an arrow from her quiver and docked it. Holding the string lightly while balancing the arrow, her honed reflexes were ready for the advent of danger. Even if she wasn't the image of priestess perfection, her skill at archery was nothing to scoff at.

Prepared now for the worst, she relaxed enough to absorb the youki flooding the air. It felt fierce but also strangely familiar. The aura, however, would tell her less than the youkai's struggling breathing. Combined with the unnatural silence of the night, her effort to concentrate on the youki refined her senses, cueing her in on its gasping. Whatever it was, it was injured, and it most definitely wasn't human.

Straining to see in the dim moonlight, she scanned the copse for a glimpse of what was beyond the dense tangle of branches. Crouching down, she leaned from side-to-side to get a better look, spying hints of white peeking through. And the sense of familiarity grew. She was certain now that she knew the youkai hidden in the trees, and by realizing that it was hurt, she also knew that there was no retreat for her. No abandoning it to the night. She would find a way to help it.

Another wave of youki swept over her, its roiling wake leaving no doubt about the strength of the demon.

Nibbling again at her lower lip, Kagome debated between two avenues of action. The first idea would be to do her best to sneak in closer so that she could discover who it was and what its injuries were. The second idea was to announce herself at this close but conceivably safe distance and see what happens. Ultimately, it was the possibility of startling a wounded demon of considerable power that decided it for her. She really didn't plan on dying tonight, especially when Inuyasha's life hung in the balance.

"Excuse me!" she called out nervously. "I-I'm Kagome, and I've come to help you."

The low rumble of a growl was the reply. Invisible winds of youki swirled, fluttering leaves. Piercing through the web of undergrowth, a pair of red eyes glowed and the growl grew into a vicious snarl.

The flashes of white she spied earlier rushed toward her. Snapping limbs heralded its charge, and reflexively, she pulled her bowstring tight. A blur of white, black, and red erupted from the copse and lunged for her. Screaming in terror, she loosed the arrow and the hot beam of purification magic burst pink as it struck the youkai hard in the chest.

It collided lifelessly into her and Kagome felt her feet leave the ground as they flew backward together. With the heavy weight of its body on top and the weightless air underneath her, time crawled. Then they struck the ground hard, tumbling over root clumps, rocks, and dirt clods before sliding to a stop.

Smothered under its body, she desperately clawed and pushed against it, her fear of suffocation fueling her frenzy. Using all her strength in her hands and feet, she flipped it over onto its back, freeing herself.

Gasping for air, she struggled to cough and breathe as excruciating pain radiated across her back and through her chest. An eternity passed before the pain dulled to a tolerable ache.

Readying herself with a deep, hitching breath, Kagome finally turned to face her assailant.

She gasped.

Meeting her eyes was a handsome face with a pair of stripes painted on each cheek and a crescent moon centered on his forehead. Forgetting her pain and her purpose, she scrambled to her hands and knees and slid away from the perennially dangerous daiyoukai.

"Sesshoumaru," she whispered to herself. "I'm dead. I'm so, so dead."

Sticky and wet, her now bloody haori coat caught her attention next.

She gasped again.

Her whispered fear resonated in her mind. Could it be that she was already dead?

Slipping her hand down through her layer of coats, she felt frantically for the flesh underneath. Smooth skin welcomed her seeking fingers, but she wrenched her clothes open further so that she could see for sure. No raw, open wounds greeted her. Only the gentle curves of her womanly chest reflected the moonlight.

'If it's not my blood,' she thought. Her gaze rose from her chest and fell to the motionless youkai lord beside her. 'Then it's his.'

After tucking her coats back into place, she cautiously scooted towards Sesshoumaru.

As she approached, he remained deathly still. She stopped to kneel beside his head. His skin unnaturally pale even for him, she studied his peaceful expression, its gentleness contrasting with the hard knot of dread stuck in her throat. All that she could imagine was his red eyes blinking open in a rage before he sprang up to snap her neck.

"S-Sesshoumaru," she called out softly, afraid of her own voice.

Nothing.

She called out again, louder now. But he remained as he was.

Setting aside her fears for the reality lying before her, Kagome poured over his body, searching for what could fell such an unrivaled youkai.

Her hand flew to her mouth.

Protruding conspicuously from just beneath his left collarbone was her answer. Fletched with white feathers at its end, an arrow had pierced his chest, leaving a ring of singed silk around the wound. In the aftermath of his attack, she had forgotten about the purifying arrow she had loosed.

Reaching over, she grasped its shaft just above the wound. Her grip tightened as her nerve hardened, and she took a deep breath before giving the arrow a firm yank. Stubbornly lodged, it didn't budge. But after several more efforts, it started to give. Then with a wet sound, out it came, its sharp arrowhead slick with blood and bits of red flesh.

"Sesshoumaru, I'm sorry," she pleaded, tossing the offending arrow away. She sought out his placid face, waiting with mixed desperation for him to wake. "I didn't mean to. It was an accident. I didn't know it was you."

Despite the earnestness of her apology, his unconsciousness persisted, leaving her to wonder about the unthinkable. To wonder if he was still alive.

Nervously, she leaned in close to his mouth and held her breath as she felt for his. At first there was nothing and her fear deepened. Then she sighed in weary relief. Disturbingly shallow and sparingly given, his exhales brushed icily against her cheek. At least there was no doubt now that he was still alive, even after being struck by her purification arrow.

Her respite was short-lived. Even with the arrow removed, he hovered near death, his usually overwhelming youki nonexistent. She poured over his body, searching for what she was missing. Effectively camouflaged by his black armor, an unexpected blood stain caught her eye. Just above his left hip, the fabric of his haori coat was drenched in red.

Her fingers prodded at the sopping fabric. She felt the ragged edges of a tear, and then through it, she slipped to the skin beneath. There was a deep gash in his side, and in amid the raw flesh and the coagulated blood, there was something hard buried in the muscle. Using a pinching forefinger and thumb, she dug into the wound, but with his coats and armor impeding her, she couldn't pry it loose.

Cursing under her breath, she withdrew her hand and wiped the blood that slicked her fingers onto her pantleg.

Without a moment of indecision, she reached under the metal arch of his shoulder armor and undid the leather straps that bound it to his body. Then she did the same for the ties at his waist. Grasping the chest piece, she stood up, lifting it off him, and with a grunt, she tossed it clumsily onto the grass beside them.

After settling again onto her knees, Kagome grabbed the lapels of his overcoat. Pulling them up, she untucked the coat from his pants. When she opened it up to reveal the thinner one underneath, she blanched at what she saw. Blackening as it radiated out, creeping designs of blood dyed the silk. She peeled the undercoat away, exposing his chest and abdomen.

Searching his side, she rediscovered the open wound and slipped her forefinger and thumb back into it. As she blindly groped, she found a cluster of hard objects that resembled a string of beads. Her fingers glided up them until she felt the true culprit behind his injury, the head of a long metal needle.

Gripping it tightly, she tugged at the weapon, careful to drag it back down the path it had forged when it had pierced him. The head of the needle finally emerged from the wound, and her brow furrowed when she smeared away the gore from the beads and realized that they were tiny bells instead. With one last pull, the needle fell out and landed onto her palm.

Glowing red eyes split by navy pupils flew open, and Sesshoumaru's dormant youki whipped up into a violent torrent. Laced with uninhibited rage, he snarled and his fierce glare which had held the night sky above flashed to Kagome. With fangs glinting and claws sharpened, he slowly sat up, his inhuman eyes locked on her. Slowly, his right hand rose, glowing green with poison.

"S-Sesshoumaru," she forced out in a stuttered whisper. She wanted desperately to scramble away but found that her once dependable strength had evaporated. "I'm sorry. I didn't know it was you."

Uttered so timidly that the blood rushing in his ears nearly deafened him to it, the familiar sound of his name penetrated his enraged mind. With burning red fading to gold, his eyes softened to a look of puzzlement as he recognized the frightened woman kneeling beside him.

"Miko, why are you here?" he asked, his voice hoarse and uneven.

He instantly regretted speaking as a stabbing pain erupted behind his temples and his hand flew to cradle his head, the poisonous vapors of youki surrounding his fingers dissipating before they touched. After several more wince-inducing surges, he began to anticipate the throbbing waves, and then through discipline, he subdued and buried them into the back of his mind.

Once satisfied, he blinked his eyes and then lowered his hand to seek the reason behind the priestess' unusual silence. She was never one to hold her tongue in the past, an irritating nature of which he couldn't understand Inuyasha's fondness for. He caught her vacant expression, still unchanged from when he first realized who she was. His brow furrowed. He did notice one change. Tears now streaked her face.

"Miko?" he called out again, waving a hand in front of her face, "Miko?" Still unresponsive, he briefly considered slapping her before a more effective idea came to mind. Now what was that name? "Kagome?"

Startled by the sound of her name, Kagome blinked slowly. And then with it said once more, her eyes came into focus on the puzzled look of the demon before her.

"Yes?" she finally answered. She rubbed away the tears glossing her cheeks with the heel of her hand. "I'm sorry. I didn't know it was you."

"While I'm not inclined to punish you for your indiscretion in disrobing me as your intentions were for my health, I cannot fathom how you were unaware that I was Sesshoumaru."

"No, I mean…" She pointed toward the charred, circular wound below his collarbone. "I didn't mean to shoot you."

He snorted with nearly indiscernible surprise and fingered the oozing hole. Invisible but doubtlessly at work, he felt the tickling sensation of youki rebuilding the burned muscle and bone. "Your concern is unnecessary. It's already healing."

"But I shot you. Aren't you angry? Don't you want to kill me for my impudence or something?"

"How can I fault you for protecting your life?" he remarked disinterestedly, his attention instead following his hand as it slid down his torso to examine the larger wound in his side. "I was not in a rational state, and so I was not able to distinguish your priestess powers from theirs. You only did what one would expect in your position. Ultimately, fortune favored us both."

"But-"

"Where is it?" he interrupted, bored of her trivial concern considering the grim injury he now squeezed shut between the pressure of his thumb and fingers. Focusing his aura, he started to seal it. "Where is the needle?"

"Here," she replied, producing the weapon that she still held in her palm. Picking it up by the head, she leaned forward to hand it to him when the dangling bells jingled. The dulcet sound rang sweetly and Sesshoumaru's outstretched hand which had meant to take the needle instead lowered without it. Already drained of their color by the toll of his injuries, his eyelids drooped, and the blood once staunched by his healing youki trickled again from his wounds.

"Do not permit them to ring," he whispered, his words slurring.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry," she apologized frantically, scooping the tiny bells into her palm and squeezing them tight to keep them from jingling. "Are you all right? Is that better?"

"Yes," he answered groggily and blinked his eyes until the overpowering lethargy departed.

"What are they?" she asked in amazement, peeking at them between her fingers.

"They are tools of your kind, miko. You should know their purpose better than I."

"Tools of my kind? Do you mean this belongs to a priestess?"

He snorted and reattempted to refocus his youki into his wounds. To his benefit, the puncture in his chest had been cauterized by the heat of the arrow, however the blood loss from the injury at his side was nothing short of troubling. He would have to take measures to replace it and soon. "That you are a revered miko but you don't recognize the weapons of your trade is astounding."

"Look, I was never formally trained until recently, so I don't know all there is to the art of being a priestess. These bells look ritualistic, and from how you reacted, they must do something, but beyond that, I don't know what they are."

"You will discover their purpose sooner than you might expect," he predicted coolly as he spied over his shoulder at the dirt road beyond the field. "They're returning."

"Who are?"

"The ones who took Inuyasha and my retainers."

Rising to a crouch, she peered over the grass and caught the gray movement of a wagon approaching. Dressed in black with stark white masks concealing their faces, shadowy figures leapt from it and started to weave their way through the clearing.

"What are we going to do?"

"You will do one thing," Sesshoumaru commanded as he finished rewrapping his exposed torso in the soaked silk of his raiment and then reached for the weight of his armor.

"And what is that?"

"Fetch your arrow," he replied, blindly knotting the ties of his chest piece while never letting his grim sight waver from hers, "And pierce me through the chest with it."


	3. Hunger

Chapter Three: Hunger

"What?" Kagome blurted out. "You want me to shoot you with another arrow?"

"Quiet," Sesshoumaru warned, "They're nearing."

"I don't understand," she whispered. "You're already injured. Why make it worse? I might kill you this time."

"It's a ruse," he said harshly before softening to his typical severity, "Stab me with the arrow in the same place as before and perhaps we can deceive them into believing that I'm slain."

"Why would we need to do that? What do they want?"

"We do not possess time for explanations, miko, and as they approach, our prospects of mutual survival diminish. If you truly care for that hanyou brother of mine, you will do as I say."

She reached for an arrow from her quiver.

An abrupt wave of his hand drew her attention to the burnt and bloody one she had tossed away. Believability was key, and she nodded in agreement before crawling toward it. Dirt clung to the arrow when she picked it up and she tapped it lightly to clean it. Then she made her way back to his side.

But when she positioned the arrow over the wound, she felt her determination falter. Retrieving it had been simple enough, but as its barbed tip hovered over his chest, the cruel reality of the next act stayed her hand. The impersonal nature of using a bow had sheltered her from the brutal intimacy that came with stabbing an enemy by hand. In fact, the familiarity of the arrow made it worse.

Clammy and cold, a hand wrapped around hers and she looked up from the wound and into the serious intensity of his eyes.

Then without warning, he plunged her hand down and the arrowhead drove deep into the wound. The ease with which the tip penetrated startled her and she winced while he bore the pain with unflinching sobriety, his hard eyes fixed on her. Her body shook even as he held her hand steady. She could feel the newly healed flesh and bone give way until the tight fit of the deep tissue beneath locked the arrow in place.

The grass rustled.

Three tattered shadows fell over her and her heart jumped into her throat. Slowly, she looked back over her shoulder at the looming figures standing behind her.

Dressed in a black that even the moonlight couldn't penetrate, they stared down at her from behind strikingly white masks that reminded her of grotesque birds of prey.

A panicked gasp escaped her. Whipping her head back toward Sesshoumaru, she found him lying lifelessly before her. The unexpected comfort of his hand on hers was missing. It now lay emptily by his side. Combined with his pallid skin and bloody clothes, she could scarcely avoid the idea that perhaps their ruse was instead a fact.

"Who are you?" a distinctly feminine voice demanded.

Kagome turned to face the shadows.

At the center of the group, an imposing woman stood, her arms crossed against her chest. Glinting gold, a dangling cluster of bells hung from a slender needle in one of her bandaged hands. Noticing the telling drift of Kagome's eyes, she quickly tucked the weapon away into her sleeve.

"Tell us who you are," the woman demanded again, reasserting her authority.

"I-I'm Kagome," she admitted, startled into a truthful answer. "I'm a priestess."

"We gathered that. Where are you from?"

"I'm from a village to the east."

"If that's true, then you are far from home. I don't recognize you as a miko belonging to this region."

"Yes, it's several days passage by foot at the very least."

"Then why are you here and not tending your village?" she asked, her gravelly voice growing more suspicious. The men flanking her on either side shifted and the swords they held flashed silver.

"We were called out for a youkai extermination at another village. It had little protection, so when we heard of its dilemma, we traveled there to help defend its people from attack."

"We?"

"Y-Yes," Kagome stuttered, realizing her mistake, but also aware that honesty would continue to be her salvation. "But I'm alone now. During the battle, he was taken from me. So, when the last of the youkai were subdued, I began my journey home." She looked away, unable to hide the sincere loss that she felt.

The woman snorted, satisfied.

"I was camped in the forest not far from here when I heard a commotion in the night," she continued, anticipating what they truly wished to know. "But when I came out to investigate, I was attacked… by him. My arrow struck true, but despite the purification, his body still remains."

"It's dead?" she asked, worry in her voice. "Are you certain?"

"He isn't breathing and doesn't have a pulse. I can't see how he could be otherwise. Considering that he was already wounded, my blow must have been what finished him. I just don't understand why he didn't turn to ash."

"It's a mystery," the woman said thoughtfully. Then she gestured toward the dark stain soiling Kagome's white coat. "Are you injured?"

"It's not deep. He surprised me, but I shot him before he could do more than that."

"Then count yourself lucky. Others have been less fortunate."

Nodding toward the men that flanked her, the woman signaled for them to step in close, and together they began to whisper.

With their interrogation finished, Kagome attempted to listen in on them. She couldn't make out much beyond their appreciation for an unanticipated benefit despite the death of a comrade and the mention of organs. But soon it was the needle that she still held in her hand that spoiled for her attention.

Even though they were embroiled in their secretive discussion, their eyes remained on her. So, she leaned forward as if to inspect the fallen youkai one last time. Her hand slipped to the ground, and she pressed the needle into the loose dirt until it and its bells disappeared.

"Miko!" the woman barked.

Kagome's breath hitched in her throat.

The grass rustled, and she felt a presence close in behind her. Beneath their shadow, the night seemed icier, and she watched the puffs of steam she made with every shuddering exhale. Then the bite of a hand grasped her shoulder, and she jumped.

"You may go, miko," the woman ordered, her voice gentler, "We will dispose of the remains. As members of a nearby shrine, we have unfortunately dealt with situations such as these in the past. You may leave without concern for your welfare or ours."

Kagome eyed the bandaged hand that held her. The tattered bindings were mottled with suspicious stains.

The woman released her and moved towards Sesshoumaru.

A heavier set of hands then grabbed Kagome's shoulders next and lifted her to her feet. Spying back at the man, she was met by his repulsive mask; the hooked beak and paint enhancing the cruel eyes that peered at her from behind it. He shoved her towards the dirt road, making it abundantly clear that her role there had ended and followed it with the flash of his blade to extinguish any doubt.

Then as if starved scavengers lucking upon an unclaimed feast, they descended on the fallen daiyoukai.

Withdrawing the needle from her sleeve, the woman knelt. She held it at the ready as her other hand hovered over him. Never quite touching, her crooked fingers traced over the invisible pathways that fanned across his body until they finally settled on the wound in his side.

Her head tilted to the side, perplexed. Though her hand didn't stray from above the wound, she shifted in her crouch to examine it at a better angle. Something hard moved under her foot and her gaze slipped down to the ground where she discovered the glint of bronze. Half exposed, it was a bloody needle.

Glowing hot, crimson eyes flashed open and a growl rumbled from Sesshoumaru's throat. With a deadly swipe, the woman's neck opened in a spray of red, the droplets splattering across him as she stumbled back in horror. Silver blades plunged, but their points only pierced clods of earth as he slipped out of reach, tumbling to a crouch a few paces away. Balanced on one knee, he glared over his shoulder at the two men and snarled.

Undaunted by his threat, they yanked out their swords, twirled them once to prove their confidence, and began their approach.

His bloodied hand falling to the gold-hilted sword at his waist, Sesshoumaru considered Bakusaiga. The allure of the powerful weapon was tempting, but he quickly abandoned it for the sickly green vapors that scorched the air around his claws. He wanted to feel them dissolve with his own hands.

Staggering as she clasped her slashed throat, the dying woman collided with Kagome who was watching on in paralyzing disbelief as Sesshoumaru melted through the mask of one man. The man's horrified shrieks shattered the night as the acid met his face. Struck hard by the blow, she toppled to the ground with the dead weight of the woman collapsing on top of her. Wet and terrifyingly human to her ears, the man let out another scream as the daiyoukai's corrosive nails sunk in to carve out his chest, and unchecked desperation seized her. Frantically clawing and kicking, she scrambled out from beneath the limp body.

And as she started to clamber to her feet, a hand grabbed her by the wrist, fingers digging in deep to jar her from her blind panic.

It was the woman. Gurgling and bubbling, she gasped through her shredded windpipe. Holding Kagome fast, her other hand left the grisly wound at her neck to pull the mask from her face. The black ribbon loosened with a firm tug, and when the mask fell away, it revealed a young woman with gray eyes. A girl who looked no different than Kagome did a few years ago.

Lips crusted with bloody foam, she tried to speak, but her voice was gone. The pain and regret that haunted her expression, however, spoke for her instead. Then her hand dropped the mask to fumble at the ground beside her. After a moment, she retrieved the needle that she had wielded earlier and placed it in Kagome's hand. The woman closed Kagome's fingers around the weapon and then her hand fell away.

"Wait!" Kagome cried out and shook the woman's shoulders, "Don't die. Who are you? Why are you doing this? I don't understand!"

Blinking slowly, the woman's anguish lessened as the release of unconsciousness loomed.

Kagome moved into action. She could save her. She could undo the decision she had made. She could make it right. She could find another way where no one had to die.

Biting hard into the cuff of her sleeve, she tore a ragged strip of fabric from her coat and pressed it firmly against the throat wound, leaving one slit open so that the woman could still breathe. Red blossomed across a field of white as blood soaked through the cloth and Kagome whimpered in frustration. Presented with the futility of applied pressure and a lack of needle and thread to stitch with, she wracked her brain for another solution.

The woman's hand found hers and pulled it away.

"You don't have to die!" she begged. "We can find another way. There must be one. One where no one dies. And no one suffers. So, let me save you. I want to save you."

A black boot crushed the woman's neck in a string of sickening pops and snaps. And with it, the last sigh of breath left her.

Stunned, Kagome slowly looked up.

More red than white, Sesshoumaru towered above, the burning crimson of his glare watching her. The bitter odor of acid lingered around him, and in his hand was the masked head of the last man, the sludge of his liquefied brains oozing from the base of his skull.

"Why did you do that?!" she cried out. "I was going to save her! I wanted to save her! There could have been another way!"

"Move," he ordered.

"W-Why?"

"Move!" he ordered again, the tone of his voice chilling her through.

She pushed off her knees into a crouch and shakily rose to stand. After taking a few steps back, she watched him suspiciously as he removed his boot from the broken woman's throat. He then stepped over the body to straddle it beneath him.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"It would be in your best interest if you didn't look," he warned, tossing the decapitated head into the field. He sank down to crouch over the body. Tracing the line of her plummeting collar with a soiled nail, he paused at the dip between the swells of her breasts. Then with both hands, he ripped open her coats, baring her pale skin.

"No!" Kagome screamed, an unexpected surge of rage boiled inside her and she lunged forward. Grabbing him by the shoulder, she pulled back hard, vainly grappling against his strength. "Don't you dare touch her!"

"Release me or join her!" he snarled, his fangs flashing. He glared at her over his shoulder, the threat of his promise multiplied by his burning eyes and the jagged markings gracing his cheeks.

Her hand fell limply from him.

Satisfied that there would be no further interruptions, he pierced the cooling flesh with a claw and drew a line of red along the contour below her ribs on the right side. The incision gaping when he finished, Sesshoumaru slipped his fingers into the wound and pulled it apart.

Bulbous and slick, internal organs lay exposed and the sour odor of her ruptured abdomen saturated the air.

A wave of nausea flooded over Kagome and bile creeped up her throat at the sight. But it was when she fully realized his intent that her stomach started to heave.

Severing the connecting tissue with his claws, he scooped out her liver. And after carving it up into bitesize chunks, he took a portion to his lips and ate.


	4. Tracks in the Dust

Chapter Four: Tracks in the Dust

Bile rushing up her throat, Kagome turned away, retching the contents of her stomach onto the ground. Tendrils of spit hanging from her lip, she hunched over the puddle as she heaved, eyes burning. As the nausea passed, her head felt impossibly light and her body numb. Hypnotized, she stared at the disgusting pool, wondering if it was her liquefied brains that had gushed from her mouth like they had oozed from the severed head of the man Sesshoumaru had slain.

Taking a few steps back, her eyes rose to the star-speckled sky above, desperate to escape from the horror that surrounded her. But despite her efforts, the stink of death, vomit, and acid flooded the air and the sound of chewing slipped unbidden into her ears. Soon, however, at least that finished, and relief came as a shivering sigh.

"We must depart," Sesshoumaru said coolly. The smoothness of his voice had returned. "It won't be long before more arrive and the same ruse will not work twice."

Silence was her only reply as words failed her, leaving him to accept a lack of objection as an accord.

The sensation of his strengthening youki prickling her skin, she felt him pass by, heading toward the road across the clearing. Her skyward gaze lowered to the long, silver mane that swayed behind him and her hands clenched into fists, knuckles turning white.

The needle she held pinched her skin, diminishing her rage, and she opened her palm to gaze at it. Her eyes rose to the departing daiyoukai and then back down to the weapon. Then she slipped it into her sleeve, careful to not let the cluster of tiny bells ring. She gave the sandaled feet of the slain woman one final glance, not daring to let her sight drift further, and then headed through the clearing toward the road.

At the edge of the road, Sesshoumaru leaned over to pick up the Staff of Heads. He regarded it briefly, then slipped it beside the two swords secured in his belt.

With the clinking of metal and nervous stamping of hooves, the agitated horse at the fore of the wagon drew him next. Tethered to a tree on the fringe of the forest, it pulled on the rein as he approached, tossing its head. And when he snared it by its bridle, the beast reared. He pulled its head down to meet his face and the horse's hot snorts ruffled his bangs. Taking in a long sniff, he absorbed its unique, musty scent and then released it.

Nervously, Kagome watched as he side-stepped gnashing teeth to approach its vulnerable flank. Sharp claws traced the horse's sinewy muscles until they met the harness. Expecting another scene of ruthless gore and consumption, she winced when his hand rose, poised to gut the defenseless creature. Then his feared strike came short of drawing blood. Instead, it sliced at the joints of the harness until it fell free. Bucking wildly, the panicked animal kicked away what remained of its bonds. And with a final swipe, the reins were severed. In a flurry of hooves, the horse bolted, galloping back down the road.

Smirking his satisfaction, Sesshoumaru watched until it fled out of sight.

"Why?" Kagome asked darkly.

His expression inscrutable, he spied over his shoulder at her. "Why what, miko?"

"Why any of this?" she asked again, the iciness of her anger chilling her voice further. "I don't understand why any of this happened. It didn't have to end this way."

He snorted with mild incredulity, "I have slain vast armies for less than what those humans have accomplished. Their ends could have only been met in one fashion."

"Death and that's it? Death and… And what you did to her?"

"A priestess passes judgment on the acts of a youkai. How unexpected."

With a slight limp, Sesshoumaru walked away, heading down the road in the direction of the wagon wheel tracks. Behind him, Kagome remained cemented in place, her frustration roiling. Then in a quick, few steps, she caught up with him, her piercing glare leveled on his forward-looking face.

"Why did you say that? I have always done my best to be kind and understanding toward youkai. If anyone has slaughtered your kind without thought or compassion, it's you. So, how dare you say that about me."

"And yet you will always place humanity before youkaikind."

"What makes you believe that? What have I done that deserves that accusation? You talk about judgment when you're in fact the one judging me."

"How many demons have you slain with those arrows you carry, miko?"

"What?"

"How many demons have you slain?" he asked again.

"I-I don't know," she stuttered, tripping over her words.

"And how many humans have fallen by your hand?"

"That's different. I—"

"How many?"

"I've never shot a human before, if that's what you're getting at, but—"

"Countless youkai perished during Naraku's rise and fall. So many died in that time that our numbers still remain remarkably diminished in the years that have passed since. How many do you believe were by your hand? By that bow you so proudly carry?"

"Those demons that I purified were attacking innocent people. I had to do it to save them. I didn't have a choice"

"And the evil humans you encountered in your travels were doing less? Did you have the choice to spare them? You may find my methods despicable and lacking compassion, but I can at least take solace in the notion that I do not discriminate between whom I slay and whom I do not. Be they youkai or human, they will all die if they disrespect me and my power."

Kagome stopped and he continued to walk. Tears welled in her eyes. Then she followed in silence.

Soon, they came to a fork in the road and she noticed the wagon wheel tracks diverting to the left as he pressed on to the right. Accustomed to the greater experience of others when it came to tracking, she continued to follow him despite her doubt. If they intended to rescue Inuyasha and his servants, then why was he ignoring the clear tracks that would lead them to them?

Sesshoumaru stopped mid-step, holding out a staying hand. He tilted his head, catching something distant in the wind. But before she could ask, he spun on his heel and grasped her by the shoulders.

Still brimming with rage, she fought him, but his wary expression quelled her struggle. Then with a labored spring, he carried her as he leapt into the thick tangle of undergrowth that grew alongside the road. Together, they crouched down behind a fallen tree. There she hoped that his silver hair and their conspicuously white clothing was hidden well enough by the vegetation that surrounded them.

The stillness of the night met them as they peered over the tree toward the road. As time passed emptily, she began to wonder if there was anything coming to be feared. Then in the space of a blink, a jagged shadow lighted onto the road. She gasped softly in surprise.

Wearing tattered, black clothing and a white, bird-like mask, the figure appeared identical to the men they had encountered earlier in the evening. Liquid in its movements, it vanished to race down the road. Not long after, it was swiftly pursued by a growing flock of its brethren, their sleeves fluttering like charred pieces of paper as they sprinted by, their bandaged hands trailing behind them.

The terrifying crunch of leaves beside her wrenched her attention away from the road. Vigilance drained by lethargy, Sesshoumaru slumped forward as he knelt; drawn toward the log he leaned upon for support. There was another rustle as his bent knee met the ground, the usually quiet sound deafening in the silence.

A fine layer of dust stirred as one figure slid to a stop, abandoning the hunt to stare into the undergrowth. Hand on the hilt of his sword, he approached until he met crunching leaves. There he stayed, pouring over the vegetation, searching for a reason to go further.

She held her breath.

Then, he was gone, rejoining the others in their quest.

With the road finally empty once more, Kagome blew out a long sigh and wearily spied over at the daiyoukai by her side. "Sesshoumaru? Sesshoumaru, they're gone."

Roused by the sound of his name, he rose to his feet. Barely veiling his fatigue, he shuffled out of the forest and onto the road, continuing in the direction that the masked men had come from.

Kagome trailed behind him. Consumed by her thoughts, she stared at the road as she walked, wondering about the mysterious men. Where were they so urgently going that even suspicious stirrings in the forest were not enough to distract them for long? Then an odd impression in the dirt caught her eye. Overlaid in places by fresh sandal prints was the shoe pattern of a galloping horse.

"That's why you freed the horse," she said in realization, "We were never following the wagon that took Inuyasha."

"A panicked horse doesn't lie," he explained, "Even now its fear is pungent on the wind and safety to such a beast is its own stable. This way is truer than tracks in the dust."

"I thought you had spared it. After everything else tonight, I thought you had just let it live."

"Would you have preferred that I had eaten it like I did that woman?" he asked darkly. Looking back at her, his eyes glimmered faintly. "That I had devoured its liver as well?"

Blood draining from her face, Kagome stared at him in disbelief. At the strange amusement that kinked his usually impassive expression. His words, spoken with mirth, faded the comfortable humanity of his appearance to reveal the brutal nature of the demon that simmered beneath the surface.

"You enjoyed it, didn't you?"

"Their deaths, I enjoyed. Her flavor however wasn't exceptional. A miko's liver tastes no different than any other."

"So, it's true. She was a priestess."

"Without a doubt."

"I wanted to save her."

"Save her?"

"I could have saved her."

He sneered. "A slashed throat isn't a scraped knee, miko. Measures of salves and herbs would have only prolonged her suffering. What a strange notion of mercy you entertain."

"You have no right to talk to me about mercy!" she raged at him, tears streaking her cheeks as she stormed up to him.

Pausing in his step, Sesshoumaru turned to face her wrath, greeting her ferocity with a detached air.

"You slashed her throat with your claws, and you tortured the others with acid. And when you did it, you took pleasure in it. All of it."

"Yes, I did," he admitted.

"And then you crushed her neck while I was trying to save her and… And you carved her open like a butcher to eat her liver."

"Yes."

"Why? Why did you do it? She was just a woman. You looked after little Rin for all that time as if she were your own daughter. You even fought Naraku at the end to save her life. How could you eat that woman after all of that? She could have been Rin. She could have been… me."

"Have you forgotten what I am?" he replied coldly. His predator eyes locked on her and he leaned in close, his breath brushing against her skin. "I am a demon. I am a beast. And meat is meat. Nourishment is not conjured from nothingness and we all must feed to survive. Thus, the blood that has been spilt from my wounds will be returned to me. Be it theirs or yours, I care not. But you will not place the taboos of humanity upon me. I am not human and I never will be."

"You would do it again?"

"Would? I will do it again."

Inhaling abruptly and deliberately through his nose, Sesshoumaru froze. He sniffed again, scenting the air. Then he stood up, his intense stare seeking the ribbon of road they had already traveled. Though it appeared empty now, the swelling stink of sweat and grime foretold that it would soon be otherwise.

"They're returning," he warned, "We must-"

A dulcet jingle and a sharp pinch interrupted him, and in confusion, he looked at Kagome. With eyes averted, she couldn't return his look as she slid the needle deeper into his side. When she finished pressing it all the way into his old wound, the warmth of his youki evaporated.

Unfathomable rage narrowed his eyes when he finally understood her betrayal, but he could do nothing for it. With the heavy, rustling thump of silk and armor, he collapsed, the world turning black.


	5. The Mysterious Priestess

Chapter Five: The Mysterious Priestess

Simple and elegant, the white on red design of a flower fluttered into her vision, bringing with it a pang of guilt. But despite the ache, she didn't turn away to avoid him as she had with the corpse of the woman, afraid of the consequences of her decisions. Callous in temperament and unforgivable in intent, Sesshoumaru had revealed the beast he was by his own words and she had discovered then that she couldn't let it happen again. She couldn't watch another die at his hands. She couldn't watch another be devoured by his hunger. There is always another way.

Sticky with his blood, she began to wipe her hand on her pant leg. As she rubbed, disturbing thoughts consumed her, reminding her about what she had done. About how easily the needle had pierced through his side. An hour ago, she had been too horrified to willingly stab him with an arrow and now she had done so with a needle and without a shred of hesitation. Tucking her hand into her sleeve, she felt for the knot of hair and rubbed it between her fingers, seeking its reassurance.

Sleeves fluttering as they flew past her, the silhouettes of men flocked around them. Puffs of dust rose as they slid to a stop. Then she felt the iron vices of fingers grip her arms and shoulders. Several hands were laid upon her and they dragged her back as a wall of the men separated her from Sesshoumaru.

"Wait!" she cried out as they drew their swords in unison. "There has to be a peaceful way!"

As if swayed, a set of hands released her. But as the man stepped to her side, he unsheathed his sword and swept it up to press it lightly against her throat. She swallowed hard and objected no further as they descended upon the daiyoukai.

Eager to slice with the slightest provocation, two men crossed their blades over his throat while two more stood beside him with the points of their swords resting on his chest just above his armor. Scattered around them, the rest of the men waited a few paces away, keen to step in if summoned.

The sway of her hips betraying her gender, a woman glided through their ranks and they parted from her path as if she were a fish and they the stream. With an intangible grace, she approached Sesshoumaru's body. Slipping her bandaged hand into her sleeve, she withdrew a needle. Its cluster of bells rang as she waved it through the air as if it were a wand. And then she began to dance.

Her clothing buoyant as she flowed, the woman's rhythmic movements were beautiful under the moonlight. A sensation of serenity washed over Kagome as she watched, soothing away her tension and clearing her mind. Gradually after each step and sway, the woman's dance grew tighter as she sank down to crouch beside him. Soon, she was so close that even the slightest mistake would have struck him. Then with a final flourish, the needle turned, and she pierced him deep in the same place that Kagome had.

Consumed by anticipation, they all stared at the daiyoukai. With her fingers splayed, the woman's hovering hand glided over his torso and down his legs until she could reach no further without standing up. When she was finally satisfied, she nodded and retracted her hand.

"It's done," she assured coolly. "The demon's aura is sealed and it will not wake." Then she rose to her feet, her gaze lingering a moment on him before seeking one of the men stationed at his head. "Your instincts have served us well this night, Daisuke. Suggesting that we should return to investigate this thicket has likely saved many lives and I will see to it that you reap a great reward."

"I have no need for such, my lady," Daisuke politely refused and he roughly nudged Sesshoumaru's face with his shoe, leaving a dusty imprint on his cheek. "Capturing this beast so that it may have the torture it has done to others revisited upon itself is satisfaction enough."

"If that is what you wish."

Pivoting on her heel, the woman then turned to approach Kagome. She stood confidently before her, assessing her as she in turn was assessed herself. The details of her bird mask were refined and delicate. Feminine, but also with bands of red flowing down from the beak. The look of a scavenger glutted by a carcass. Kagome felt a chill breathe across her skin as she considered what sort of woman would hide behind such a sinister mask. And then there was the dance and the way it had eased away her anxiety and replaced it with sureness and clarity. It was something divine.

"Who are-" the woman began.

"Are you going to kill him?" Kagome interrupted. She felt a sharp sting as the blade pressed against her throat bit in, drawing a line of blood. Gritting her teeth, she blinked back tears and kept her steely expression from falling.

"Impertinent, aren't we?"

"Are you going to kill him?"

The woman hummed darkly. "How do you know that it isn't already dead?"

"You can't capture a dead man. And if you had killed him, you wouldn't have said that you were planning to torture him."

"Well thought."

"Are you going to kill him?"

"That depends on it and whether it can survive." The woman tilted her head. "Since I have answered your question, you can see that I'm in a benevolent mood. I expect the same courtesy from you. I will ask again. Who are you?"

"My name is Kagome," she replied boldly, "I'm a priestess from far to the east and that demon is my captive, not yours."

"Is that so? You're rather daring for someone at the mercy of those she threatens. How is it your captive?"

"The hole in his chest is from my purification arrow and before you stabbed him with your needle, I had done so with mine. The measures you have taken to subdue him were done on a youkai who was already vanquished by me. He is my captive."

"And you believe that you shall keep it? What's to stop me from simply taking it from you?"

"Your pride."

"My pride?"

"Yes. The intricate dance you performed earlier had a comforting quality to it. A purity and grace in its movements that only a shrine priestess can create."

"An easy deduction since it's simple for one miko to sense whether or not another shares her company. I'm a priestess and what of it?"

"You're not just a priestess," Kagome added, her realization becoming clearer as she spoke. "That was a kagura dance and only a gifted priestess of the imperial court can perform it."

"Make your point," she demanded, her voice darkening.

"Several years ago, I once had an encounter with a fallen miko. Overcome by envy and greed, her divine power was soiled by her selfish ambitions. You should know that I won't give up my claim over this youkai no matter what you do or what you command your men to do. You haven't become a black miko yet but being the cause of an innocent priestess's death might tarnish you forever. Then all of those years of intense training will be for nothing and I don't believe you want that."

A silence swelled between them.

Kagome refused to waver as she stared back at the dark eyes peering at her through the mask. Her mind though couldn't ignore the irony of her argument by reminding her with images of the dead woman in the clearing. The one missing her liver. The one she had, in no small way, failed to save and helped to kill. She was likely a fellow priestess too. And she could only fear how the gods who imbued her with power might feel about her now.

The rhythmic clapping of hooves echoed through the forest. Galloping down the road, a rider astride a dark horse approached them and slid to a stop just short of colliding with the outermost guard.

Turning away from Kagome, the woman looked up at the rider.

"Kioshi-sama," he called out. White-eyed, the horse beneath him stepped anxiously, smelling both blood and the daiyoukai, "A wagon is on its way as you requested before we left. Have you discovered what became of Lady Nao?"

"That's a good question," she said, and then turned back to Kagome, "If I'm not mistaken, you spoke of a needle a moment ago. Tell me where did you find such a weapon?"

"Lady Nao gave it to me before she died," Kagome admitted, her resolve starting to slip. Even if it was the truth, it felt heavy like a lie on her tongue. Whether Kioshi noticed or not, she couldn't tell. "She gave it to me so that I would survive when she would not."

"She's dead?"

"Along with the two other men who accompanied her."

"How unfortunate," she remarked distantly as if the explanation was to be expected. She returned her attention to the rider. "Ride ahead and assess the area. We must remove all traces of the barrier and the battle prior to dawn. And before any other unforeseen events occur. Once you've assessed what's needed then ride back and procure the appropriate supplies. This demon has brought the end of too many lives and we needn't add more to the tally."

"Yes, my lady," the rider replied.

"Daisuke, take two others and accompany him. Be careful. It may have more allies hidden nearby."

"Allies?" Kagome asked, drawing Kioshi's attention.

"Yes, this demon had allies. If it hadn't, then it wouldn't be yours to claim and a fair number of us wouldn't have died to catch it."

"I didn't see any allies."

"What survived of our first party, subdued them. Sadly, they're not of this beast's strength, but we'll find a use for them."

Rattling as it rolled over the road; a wagon appeared at the bend and soon it came to an easy stop beside them.

With a nod from Kioshi, the rider galloped away, heading toward the distant clearing with three others pursuing on foot.

"Load the demon and…" she ordered, before eyeing Kagome. "Take her as well. I'm certain Jianyu-sama will wish to meet her if only for the sake of entertainment."

The blade fell away from Kagome's neck. The men released her briefly as they relieved her of her quiver and bow and then pulled her arms snugly behind her back. With sharp tugs, they secured her with rope at the elbows and wrists. Once satisfied with the knots, they gave her a firm nudge towards the wagon.

His body tangled in a mess of rope, she passed by Sesshoumaru. He had already been freed of his armor and weapons and was being bound in an intricate web of hemp rope and paper streamers. Kioshi loomed over the men as they worked to bind him, barking an occasional correction as needed.

Distracted by the elaborate sealing, Kagome was surprised by the return of hands on her upper arms, but not nearly as much by the hands that slid down to her bottom. Before she could object, she was raised up into the air. Then the two men aboard the wagon grabbed her under the shoulders and lifted her up the rest of the way. After a few steps, she was dropped into a corner of the bed where she could lean against the gate.

When the men finished sealing Sesshoumaru, they rocked him from side-to-side as they slid a sheet of heavy fabric underneath him. Grunting, the men toiled as they lifted the makeshift stretcher. Then with shuffling steps, they toted him to the wagon while several others sprang up onto the bed. Heaving as well as they could, they dragged the daiyoukai up into it. More climbed aboard when they were finished, filling the hold until there was no place left to stand or sit.

"Head for the camp," Kioshi commanded the driver, "I and the rest will follow shortly."

"Yes, my lady."

With a rough start that smoothed out as the wheels found the ruts, the wagon rolled down the road with Kagome's uncertainty swelling with every tree they passed.


	6. The Abandoned Shrine

Chapter Six: The Abandoned Shrine

Her head swaying gently with every jostle, Kagome leaned back against the gate of the wagon. With her face upturned, her eyes drifted over the men who surrounded her. Her fear of death had abated once they took her prisoner, leaving her free to think beyond her own preservation and that of Sesshoumaru's. Outwardly, she regarded them with the same aloof sentiment they granted her, but secretly she wondered who they were.

As she closely examined them, she realized that their menacing presence had lost none of its quality. Their masks still proved to be both ugly and terrifying, and had she not seen the fair face of the dying priestess or heard the screams of those Sesshoumaru had killed, she would have denied the possibility of their humanity. But despite that, she couldn't truly be sure that they were human. In her gut, they remained shadowy apparitions of death.

Yet it was the fact that Kioshi was an imperially-trained priestess that anchored her mind. Ingrained in her from the rambling teachings of her grandfather to the expert training provided by Kaede, Kagome had been exposed to a rich tapestry of culture and religion throughout her life. These were human beings. Their training betrayed them to be as much and nothing more. Their purpose however escaped her and the more she thought about it, the less sense it made. Warrior monks and shrine priestesses purified youkai. They didn't risk capturing them, especially ones as powerful as Sesshoumaru.

Dwelling on him, her sight drifted to the crown of silver hair not far from her feet. Rocking with the wagon as far as the rope would permit, Sesshoumaru lay lifelessly under the watch of the men. The tingle of his youki eluded her senses and a pang of concern tightened in her chest. In her experience, even sleeping youkai emit an aura and only dead ones emit none.

Then she spied a slight swell of his chest and she let out a relieved sigh. Soon she was following the steady rhythm of his breathing, pleased that the first breath was not a ploy on behalf of her eyes to ease her conscience. Guilt aside, she had done what she thought was right. Especially knowing now that the men were returning to find them. She could only imagine what would have happened had Sesshoumaru been ready for them. Rescuing Inuyasha was her priority, but almost as important, was that she didn't want to see anyone else die.

Sharp against the white silk, she noticed a strange arrangement of kanji that inked Sesshoumaru's coat. The complex symbols were written in a circle that spiraled out between the lines of rope that secured his chest. Over his heart, an elegant ring of rope was laced together and at its center was the character for heaven. As she stared, the design created by the seal revealed itself. The circle was the sun and the rope and ink reached out like waving tendrils of fire.

A man moved to obscure her view. Her gaze rising, she met the blank expression of his mask and the suspicious eyes that peered down at her from behind it. His glare remained on her as he settled down to crouch between her and Sesshoumaru.

Made uneasy by his presence, Kagome looked away to the star-dusted sky and silhouetted treetops. Feathery and delicate, the tips of conifers flowed by until the unexpected lines of a building emerged. It was the only semblance of civilization that she had seen this deep in the forest, leaving her to wonder if it was where they were traveling to.

Letting out a bark, the driver brought the wagon to a stop beside a tall flight of stairs. Crafted from cement, the broad incline of steps rose up the small mountain to a gap of sky amid the trees. A red archway stood at the base. Constructed from two poles and topped with boards of wood that fanned up at the edges, the torii gate marked the entrance to a shrine and Kagome's curiosity deepened.

Most of the men poured nimbly over the gates to spread out and form a discouraging perimeter around the wagon. Those that remained grabbed the rear gate and lifted it free from the bed. Next, they dragged out the stretcher, careful not to drop the daiyoukai cradled within it. With several men on each side, they toted him away, heading toward the stairway.

As they passed under the tall arch, a ripple of blue magic wrinkled the air. And as soon as they were beyond it, the glimmer dissipated. Although the energy itself was unfamiliar to her, she was certain that it was some type of barrier.

Strong fingers found her upper arms and Kagome was swiftly on her feet and dragged to the end of the bed. Her bound wrists and elbows ached sharply, but she stifled any whimpers as she tried to walk. Guiding her to the edge, the hands released her to then give her a shove and over the edge she fell. Two men waited below, and she landed awkwardly as they caught her by each arm. Her foot twisted, and she let out a yelp as she collapsed. Without a hint of concern, they dragged her forward. Limping as best she could, she did her best to keep up with them, desperate to avoid being pulled off her feet as they strode.

The weather-worn steps peeking out from under a blanket of pine needles drew her curiosity next. And as she looked up ahead at the peeling paint on the torii gate, she felt sure of her conclusion. Somehow it seemed fitting that such menacing holy men would take sanctuary in an abandoned shrine.

As they approached the towering archway and its unfamiliar barrier, an unexpected hesitation held her back. However, her resistance was nothing compared to their combined strength and she was thrust through the barrier.

The eerie silence of the night was replaced by a cacophony of voices and sounds that rose from beyond the crest of the stairs. Encouraged by another shove, she stumbled forward and resumed her climb. Up the steps she went, her restraints foiling her balance as she struggled to keep from falling back down the way she had come. The men though, were quick to right her every time she teetered, and they soon reached the summit.

Lit up by dozens of fires, a sprawling camp greeted Kagome as she entered the stone courtyard surrounding the shrine. An assortment of buildings and shelters spread out before her and at their center stood a weathered pagoda reaching high into the midnight sky. Along the fringes of the shrine, there were clusters of tents, and there she spotted dozens of men relaxing around their campfires as they cooked their meals or shared a drink. Grand adventures mingling with lewd jokes, the overlapping din of their conversations proved their humanity better than their exposed faces.

With another push, her escort directed her toward a large wooden building. Newer than the structures native to the shrine, it was plain and sturdy, constructed of thick beams and lacking windows. It was when they directed her towards the front that she noticed that it was simply a series of segmented rooms with a latticework of wooden bars on one side. Her lame stride hitching, she quickly realized what they planned to do with her.

"I wish to speak with your leader. With Jianyu," Kagome said as they then began to drag her toward the prison, thwarted little by her refusal to walk on her own. "I want peace and have no intention to fight with him. I simply want to talk."

Wordlessly, they continued, ignoring her pleas. Frustration swelled inside her, intensifying with every sharp ache wrenched from her sore arms as they yanked her forward.

"Look here," she growled furiously, "I can see that this was once a great shrine, so I doubt the gods still being honored here would look kindly on you two for abusing a priestess. What sort of warrior monks are you?"

"Ha," one of the men snickered, his voice affected by an unexpected accent, one that reminded her of mainland China. "You speak as if we have any regard for your gods."

"You're not monks or priests?"

"Who we are is none of your concern and a silent tongue will ensure your survival this night better than one that flaps."

While she was one to rarely heed a threat, the conviction that laced his promise smothered her defiance. With some reluctance, she ceased to fight against them and instead walked on her own toward the prison.

Under the watchful eyes of the sentries stationed there, Kagome and her escorts approached the nearest cell. Through the bars, she peered into the dark room, unable to see even the ground beyond a step or two inside. Overcome with uneasiness, she rubbed her fingers together; imagining the feel of Inuyasha's lock of hair in her hand. She would find him, and then she would save him. No matter what happens, she couldn't forget that.

Releasing her, one man stepped away to open the gate while the other squeezed her arm tighter lest she had any ideas of escape. She however gave him no further cause for alarm and his grip lessened to a comfortable firmness.

The door swung open, but before they could shove her in, a voice called out behind them. Looking back over their shoulders, the men discovered Kioshi among several other men.

"Wait," Kioshi commanded. She left her entourage and walked towards them, every movement carrying the same indescribable elegance, like a flame dancing on the wick of a candle.

"Kioshi-sama," the man at Kagome's arm answered, "Do you require something of us?"

"Yes," she replied. "Her."

"Her?"

"As a Shinto priestess, she's our guest and we would be poor hosts if we keep her in such filthy quarters and in the company of our enemies."

"Of course, my lady. Where do you wish us to escort her?"

"Nowhere. I shall accept her as my responsibility. You both may be dismissed once you release her bonds."

"Are you certain that you wish for her to be freed? Perhaps we should-"

"Do you doubt my authority?" she interrupted.

The men shifted nervously. "No, we wouldn't even think it."

"Then release her."

After a few tugs, the ropes loosened and slipped off Kagome's arms. Relishing every bit of pleasure that came with their reprimand, she wrenched herself away from their hands and joined Kioshi's side.

Not willing to invite any more fury upon themselves, the men strode away, more eager to bask beside the tent campfires than to remain any longer under the icy glare of their priestess.

A pained hiss leaving her lips, Kagome began to massage the purplish imprints that ached her elbows and wrists. But when she looked up, she realized that Kioshi had already walked away, leaving her alone with the unsavory men guarding the prison.

She quickly caught up.

"Thank you," she said to Kioshi.

"Your gratitude is misplaced," she replied, "It's not my policy that spares you. Do understand that if it were my decision to make, you would be in a prison cell and not neccesarily an empty one."

"Then if I shouldn't thank you, I would like to thank whoever is responsible."

"You'll have your opportunity shortly. Jianyu-sama has requested your presence. We shall see if you disappoint him."

More questions pressed at Kagome's lips, her curiosity begging to be sated. However, she remained quiet. The fortune of their leader's interest was one she couldn't do without. She would save Inuyasha and, chance permitting, Sesshoumaru as well. So, she bit her tongue and followed Kioshi as they wove between the buildings toward the towering pagoda beyond.


	7. The Man Behind the Masks

Chapter Seven: The Man Behind the Masks

Backlit by the moon, the four-tiered pagoda cast its shadow over the women as they approached. Decay wrought by neglect, its beautifully carved beams and curling eaves had rotted over the years.

A set of double doors served as the entrance and playing out upon it was a gory scene of youkai being impaled by the spears of human warriors. Swallowing down, Kagome stared at the details of the grisly battle while Kioshi signaled for one of the guards who waited by the entrance. Stepping forward, the man slid one of the heavy doors to the side, revealing the lamplit hall within.

The women entered the hall and the door slid closed behind them. Running nearly the full length and width of the pagoda itself, the hall was massive, and together, they began to cross it. Elegant in design, they passed by the many pillars that supported the immense weight of the stories above. Their sandals clapped across the wood floor with dark, rust-colored stains showing them the way. Heavy and thick, the stale odor of lamp oil saturated the air, and under the flickering light, statues lined the walls, each tarnished by time.

As they reached the end of the hall, they encountered a newer set of walls that jutted out from one of the back corners to form a smaller space. Pushing aside the sliding door, Kioshi entered the makeshift room with Kagome following behind. Larger than it seemed, the space was well organized. Along the walls were neat piles of black clothing and folded futons. Kioshi sorted through them to gather a coat and a pair of pants.

"Wear these," she ordered.

"Why?" Kagome asked, making no effort to accept the clothes.

"You cannot be heard by Lord Jianyu when you're soaked in blood. If you still desire to have an audience with him then I suggest you cease this childishness and disrobe."

With her eyes fixed on Kioshi, Kagome reluctantly surrendered and started to undo the ties of her hakama. Thumbs hooking into the waist, she pulled them down over her hips and let them drop to her ankles. She stepped out of the pooled fabric and kicked it to the side. Draped loosely, her coats hung over her body and with a shrug, they fell from her shoulders.

Nude but for the fabric wrapped across her breasts and the strip concealing her modesty, she snatched the proffered clothing.

Ignoring her, Kioshi knelt before a collection of bowls and tubs. Choosing a basin, she filled it with water from a ceramic pitcher.

"Cleanse yourself first," she ordered, gesturing to the smears of blood that had earlier seeped through her clothes to stain her chest.

Scowling, Kagome took off the undercoat that she had slipped into and accepted the basin along with the remnants of an old sea sponge to scrub with. Wisps of red curled and dissolved in the basin as she washed. Soon she finished her bath, the evening's spilt blood replaced by unblemished skin. When done, she wrapped her nakedness with the borrowed coats, and before long, she was fully dressed.

With bottles clinking, Kioshi sorted through her assorted medicines before settling on a particular jar. Considering it for a moment, she then grabbed a roll of mottled bandages from a box beside it.

"Come here and sit," she commanded.

Kagome did as she was told. Grimacing, she knelt slowly and then tipped back to land onto her bottom.

With a brisk manner that suggested she had seen far worse, Kioshi firmly took Kagome's foot by the heel and examined the swollen ankle. Once satisfied, she dipped her fingers into the red paste in the jar and proceeded to rub it all over the afflicted joint. Smelling of cool mint, spicy herbs and the unusual brininess of iron, the strange salve tingled as it warmed. As precise as she was quick, she tightly bound the bandages around the ankle which had already begun to heal.

"What is that?" Kagome asked in wonderment, the taut bandages loosening as the swelling subsided.

"A salve," she replied. "Fresh this evening but made from impure ingredients. It works all the same, however. Your ankle will impair you no further."

"Impure or not, it's still amazing. What's it made from?"

"As of right now, it's not of your concern," she said firmly and stood up. "Come. Lord Jianyu is not partial to waiting."

Rising to her feet, Kagome watched as Kioshi busily cleaned up the space. Brusque yet kind enough to tend to her ankle, she wondered again about what sort of woman she was. Graceful and skilled, she truly was a priestess worth revering, but there was also a mysterious darkness that dyed her purity with shadow.

"Move," Kioshi ordered, waiting by the doorway.

Kagome quickly joined her, and together they left. They headed along the back wall of the hall until they came upon a recess and in it, a flight of stairs that led to the next story. And then they began to climb.

"May I ask a question?" Kagome asked.

Kioshi paused in her step. "You can ask, but you may or may not receive an answer."

"Why do all of you wear this clothing?" she said, tugging at her own lapel. "For the men perhaps it suits them, but you are a priestess. It seems too dark for someone empowered by the gods."

"It's because we're empowered by the gods that we choose to wear these robes and not the other way around, miko. We're the raptors that exact the punishment they've demanded and so we dress for our roles."

"Punishment?"

"It's not my place to elaborate," she answered, continuing up the stairs. "I've spoken more than I care to. Your ankle should no longer impede you, so I won't tolerate any further delays."

Without further comment, Kagome followed her. As they climbed, her sight drifted downward and she noticed that the strange brown stains from the hall also stained the steps.

When they reached the crest, an overpowering mix of scents hung in the air like a thick fog. A youthful tan beside the darker ancient timbers, a newly erected wall separated the stairwell from the second floor, and at its center was a large heavy door. Around it and along the wall, dozens of pots sat on the floor with burning sticks of incense protruding from their rims, the lamplight graying in the haze of their smoke.

They climbed up the next flight and were met with a similar scene at the third floor. The cloying ash coated Kagome's tongue as she breathed in the heavy air.

Again, they ascended, and after the final flight, they arrived at an entryway with rice paper walls and a single sliding door midway along it. The wood floor was buffed to a high polish. Kioshi approached the door and gave it a light rap.

"Jianyu-sama," she called out politely.

"Yes, Lady Kioshi," a genial voice answered.

"I have brought the priestess as you requested."

"Very good. You may enter."

After slipping off their sandals, Kioshi slid the door open. As it parted, a rush of cool air fanned over them and together they stepped through. Piled high to form peaks and ranges, stacks of books and scrolls were littered along the walls and across the floor. Breathing in the musty scents of old paper and ink, Kagome studied the towers of literature as Kioshi led her through the maze. Woodblock prints and tattered scrolls sat beside hard-bound books and manuscripts. Prose from dozens of languages, both eastern and western, were scrawled out on parchment, calf leather, and papyrus. She had found herself in a vast library that wouldn't know its equal until the modern era she had left behind. Set on metal plates upon the highest stacks, flickering lamps guided their way and after a few more turns, the room opened up.

At the center was an exquisite oriental rug and upon its burgundy and gold swirls was a black lacquered desk, and behind it, a poised man sat. Parchment laid out before him and to his right was an expensive onyx inkwell rimmed in gold. He held a calligraphy brush and as they approached, he busily penned kanji with precision.

A persistent tug pulled at Kagome's sleeve and she looked to her side to find its cause. Finding dark brown eyes, full lips, and the pitted roughness of a healed burn on her left cheek, she discovered a young, once beautiful, woman. It took a perplexed moment for her to realize that she was staring at Kioshi. Her mask in her other hand, the woman gave her another downward yank until the meaning of her demand overcame Kagome's surprise. Gracefully collapsing onto their knees, both women settled onto the rug in front of the man and awaited his attention.

"From what I've heard, you've brought me quite an extraordinary guest, Lady Kioshi," he eventually spoke up, his gaze still fixed on his writing. A heavy mainland accent affected his drawn-out words. "I'm Jianyu and I must ask you honorable priestess, what is your name?"

"Kagome."

"How unusual. I don't believe I've met a maiden by that name until now."

"No, it's not very common."

"So, it would seem," he remarked warmly and set his brush down across the inkwell. Draped in luxurious silk, he wore a white yukata robe trimmed with embroidered gold that shimmered along the fringes like a gentle flame. Stark against it, a thick braid of black hair trailed over his shoulder to pool beside him. From the tips of his ears and below, his scalp was neatly shaved to the skin. His black eyes finally rose to meet the women and he brandished a friendly smile. "And neither are the noble deeds you've committed this night common. To think that a sole priestess would succeed where countless armies of battle-hardened men would fail and die."

"There was nothing noble about it. I just didn't want anyone else to die."

"By your words, there's some nobility in your vanquishing of the demon. After all, a priestess and a monk perished this evening along with ten other men. Further lives were spared by your bravery if nothing else."

"Why were they sent into harm's way to begin with? A daiyoukai of his strength should be avoided not fought. Those people were placed in unnecessary danger. Victims of what they were ordered to do by you and not by him."

"Unnecessary danger," he repeated, chuckling softly. "Aside from this obstinate old man and the scowling priestess beside you, please look around this room, Lady Kagome, and tell me what you see."

"Stacks of books and scrolls from all over the world."

"A very astute observation," he commented with a facetious air, inviting a glare from her. "I'm a well-traveled man who has seen and experienced much on this Earth and my greatest indulgence is the literature that overflows from it. To think of the difficult languages that I've mastered just to quench my thirst to read and understand. In my collection, I have one story that shall take the unnecessary danger you've identified and transform it into such poetic eloquence that it cannot be denied. In fact, it has driven many to sacrifice their lives to accomplish its end. Do you know the tale of Prometheus?"

In the veiled recesses of her mind, the foreign name haunted her memory, reminding her of fluorescent lighting and the soft rustling of notebook paper. However, her occasional lessons on world literature were too faded for her to remember much more than a few facts.

"It's an ancient European myth, isn't it?"

"Ah," he answered, his grin broadening. "Please, forgive my earlier impoliteness. That you would know it to be western in origin and ancient at that proves that you are far more educated than I judged you to be. I fear I've done you an injustice by assuming otherwise. Yes, the story of Prometheus originates from Europe as you suspect but more specifically from the once great conquering nation of Greece.

"According to their legends, a primal clan of deities once governed their lands and oceans. Called Titans, they were simple gods, powerful to be certain but primitive all the same. Unable to attain true grace where their progeny would, they were eventually conquered and banished to the furthest depths of hell for their impurity. Yet, not all were imprisoned as those who vowed to serve the new gods were permitted to stay.

"Prometheus was one such Titan but his intent was not as noble as it seemed. With a foolhardy trick, he stole fire from the heavens and delivered it to the people of the land. This act, which appears generous at first, exacted a cost from the people, because with the gift of fire they lost the easy means of life granted to them by the gods. The time of a day's toil yielding a year's fruit ended when their hearths burned with flame.

"Zeus, the greatest of the gods, sought out Prometheus in his wrath and delivered a punishment upon him. Binding him to a rock deep in the mountains, he chained Prometheus and then called upon an eagle. It flew down and ripped open the defenseless Titan's belly, devouring his liver. He screamed in agony until nothing of his liver remained. Once sated, the bird left, and then when the night passed, his liver became whole once more. In the morning, the eagle returned and tore him open to feed again. And so, the years passed as each day the bird ate and each night he healed, his persisting immortality becoming his bane."

When the story finished, a silence passed as Kagome considered the story. While he recited it, the haze of her memory had started to lift until by its end she had anticipated his every word.

"I remember it now," she said finally. "It's a well-shared story where I was educated, but there's something that I don't understand. How is it that a foreign myth has any bearing upon us as we take shelter in an old Shinto shrine among monks and priestesses? It seems as dishonorable as the grime that sullies the walls of this pagoda."

"I do not purport to be a religious man, Lady Kagome. As a former merchant who has sailed on nearly every sea, I've seen and committed enough wicked acts to deprive me of any pleasant afterlife. But when I learned of this tale, I saw a way to make amends for the transgressions of my life. A parallel that would permit us to act as avengers against the evils who defy the gods and ease the lives of the victims they make. Once I explain it further, I will offer you the opportunity to join us and I hope that you won't disappoint."


	8. For Humanity

Chapter Eight: For Humanity

"The opportunity to join you?" Kagome said, her brow furrowing.

"Yes," Jianyu replied, "As you know, we lost several this evening including a monk and a priestess. Someone talented such as you would be an asset better serving our cause rather than wasted in what lonely rural shrine you've come from."

"I'm proud of where I come from. I won't be persuaded otherwise."

"Indeed, I'm mistaken yet again," he said, his tone confident despite her refusal. "Then perhaps our meeting should adjourn. Lady Kioshi will escort you out now and you may return to your life as it once was. However, do us and yourself the favor of forgetting our encounter this night. I wouldn't care to see a young priestess with great potential a victim of misfortune."

A hand touched her shoulder. Kioshi was already on her feet and gave her a light tap. But, Kagome remained where she was, not quite believing that the meeting was over.

"Wa-Wait," she blurted out.

Ignoring her, Jianyu picked up his calligraphy brush.

"I'll listen to your offer," she added. "I'm just proud of my independence and where I come from. Maybe too proud sometimes. Please forgive me and continue."

He set the brush down, unsurprised by her swift reversal of thought.

He hummed, stroking his chin as if in deep reflection, then he smirked. "Very well. We shall continue. Lady Kioshi?"

"Yes, Jianyu-sama," she answered.

"Bring us some tea, would you?"

"Now, my lord?"

"Yes."

"As you wish."

Remasked, Kioshi swept past the stacks of literature and left the room. Then with the loud clap, the door shut.

A shiver shot through Kagome's body. With his mysterious intents evoking fear more than curiosity, she realized that she was now completely alone with him. Not that she believed Kioshi would protect her even if she was present.

"There's no need for worry, Lady Kagome," he mentioned boredly. "I have no nefarious designs upon your person. It would be… uncivilized. Like I said previously, I'm looking to make amends for the path I've chosen, and that's to deal with the earthly demons whose existence angers the gods we worship."

"You're talking about youkai?"

"Yes."

"All youkai?"

"Every single one."

"I don't believe that," she argued, her hands tightening into fists, "There are good ones who don't harm anyone but help instead. How could they anger anyone, especially the gods?"

"A naïve argument," he chided gently. "A priestess should understand this better than anyone. After all, who grants you the power that flows from your arrows?"

"I know that the gods do, but-"

"And what do those powers do? They purify what they pierce and they pierce demons. You could blindly loose one hundred purification arrows in any direction. They may strike trees, stones, animals, and perhaps an unfortunate human, but they will only turn demons to ash. If only they can be cleansed, then they are the filth of this world."

"I don't believe that," she repeated.

"But even as you deny it, you know it to be true unless you have a more accurate explanation?"

She swallowed.

He snorted, triumph glimmering in his dark eyes.

"So, youkai can be purified and perhaps the gods don't hold them in the highest graces, but that doesn't mean they don't deserve to live. That you have any right to condemn them as filth."

"No, they condemn themselves," he replied coolly. "As you've traveled, you've no doubt seen what they've done to vulnerable villages and farmlands. Not but a few years ago there were times when the sky was blotted out with writhing masses of them. Over the course of a single year, dozens of towns were burnt away and hundreds of innocents died."

"That won't happen again," she assured. "The one who was responsible was defeated."

"A fortune was its demise to be sure, but the death of one great evil doesn't pardon the many others who continue to slaughter even this night. They have all killed humans and if they haven't yet, they will. It's their nature to hunt and kill us. And once we're dead, they consume us. To them, we're nourishment and the life of ease that we could have is robbed from us by their existence. Not just by killing us but by stunting our potential through instilling the fear of being killed in us."

A chill iced his voice as he explained, and despite her fervent belief to the contrary, Kagome was speechless. In the pit of her stomach, her objections churned in the acid, dissolved not by the strength of his argument, but by the power of his presence. No matter how she debated him, the authority he wielded never surged or lessened. Instead it simply persisted, undeterred as it whittled away at her resolve to allow his reasoning to filter through. He was a terrifying man.

"So, you're going to kill them and ease humanity's suffering?" she said, finding her voice. "Purify them away so that we don't have to live in fear or struggle through life when they make orphans of us?"

"It's not quite that simple. We intend to improve the lives of their victims through more than peace of mind. Through traditional Chinese medicines."

"Traditional medicine? You mean Kampo?"

"Yes," he said, smiling again, "Kampo would be the Japanese equivalent."

"But doesn't that usually involve acupuncture and herb mixtures? What do youkai have to do…"

Trailing off, her train of thought switched to memories of bronze-handled needles. Without the misleading clusters of bells, the weapons that both priestesses had used were easily recognizable as acupuncture needles.

"You're correct, usually these medicines are made from such simple ingredients," he admitted, "However, limiting one's resources to just plants is foolish when animals provide a multitude of uses as well. Dried scorpions, snakes, turtle shells, and so on can contribute greatly to the welfare of a person's mind and body. They can cure disease, mend broken bones, and even sow the seeds of fertility in a barren womb."

A wet wave of dread washed over Kagome.

"What do youkai have to do with medicine?" she asked, the question sour like bile in her mouth.

"You already know the answer, do you not?"

"I don't… I-"

"You know that those who once consumed us are now the consumed. Raw, dried, boiled, and cooked, the organs of their bodies cleanse, heal, and balance ours in ways that make their natural counterparts seem as dull as diluted tea."

"But, they're people," she said almost desperately, her chest tightening as she struggled to breathe.

"Are they?"

"They speak. They wear clothes. They fall in love. Doesn't that mean they're more than just beasts? More than animals for the slaughter?"

He snorted, waving a dismissive hand, "Disguises and nothing more. The demon you captured this evening spoke and wore clothing. It even at one time cared for the welfare of a human child, something akin to love. So human-like are these traits, and yet what did it do to Lady Nao? Tell me that."

Biting her lip, a lie tore at her throat, frantic to be spoken over the truth. She swallowed it down. He already knew the answer. He always knew the answer.

"He… He killed her and ate her liver."

"A monster that has slain hundreds for its own selfish desires will now save just as many. How poetic is it that Prometheus will be devoured so that we all may thrive." He sighed. "Now that you know our intentions, I will hear your decision. Join us, Lady Kagome and save hundreds. Perhaps thousands. Your strength and skill are greatly needed."

"I… I can't. I mean I have to-," she mumbled and rose to her feet. "I need to…"

Then without another word, she fled.

She wove through the piles of books toward the door. It glided open, and Kioshi stood in the entrance holding an elegant tea atop a bamboo tray. Kagome bumped into her as she brushed past, leaving her sandals behind as she sprinted for the stairs.

The tea tray clattered to the floor. Kioshi sprinted toward Jianyu, knocking several stacks of books over as she ran.

"Jianyu-sama?!" she called out, sliding around the last heap.

"I'm fine, Lady Kioshi," he answered.

She sighed in relief as she caught her breath. "What happened, my lord?"

He picked up his brush, admiring the ease with which it did as he desired. "It seems she has some reservations."

"May I speak my opinion?"

"Of course."

"I don't care for her. She's a suspicious woman. There are rumors of a priestess who consorts with demons, and I believe she is the one. How else would she keep company with a dangerous beast like that and not share Lady Nao's fate? She was not its captive. The demon trusted her."

"Perhaps," he agreed, "But if she is the one you speak of, then her befriending nature will reap more than what fifty trained men could provide. Your warning is heeded, however. Follow her and see what she does. If by dawn she's not persuaded to join our ranks, you know what to do."

"As you wish, my lord."

She gave a polite bow and pivoted gracefully toward the exit.

"And, miko. If she should attempt to escape before then…"

She paused. "I understand, Jianyu-sama."

Then she strode away, leaving the man alone to his art.

OOOOOOOOOO

As Kagome yanked the pagoda door open, the bracing autumn night rushed in, chilling her damp skin. She bolted out into the yard. From behind their raptorial masks, the guards watched her run, but remained at their stations.

Clean and crisp, she gulped down the fresh air, desperate to purge the sickeningly sweet smell of incense from her nose and palette. The musty odor of books and ink clung as well, and when she dwelled on all of it together, she thought of Jianyu's story and her stomach churned. How many youkai had been regarded as filth and had died to serve their cause? How many had been butchered and bottled as sacrifices for the wellbeing of humanity?

The urge to vomit welled up inside of her and as she tried to push it back down, the gravel slipped from beneath her feet. First, landing hard on her bottom, she tumbled over the ground before sliding to a stop. Dirt smeared across her face, she picked herself up to sit. As she moved, flashes of sharp pain stung her knees and hands, clearing her mind. The shock and terror inspired by Jianyu and his mission clarified one thing for her. She had to find Inuyasha and Sesshoumaru. She had to find them and save them.

Clambering to her feet, she limped toward the only place she knew to look, the well-fortified prison near the entrance of the shrine. The pain relaxed away as she made her way toward it. The guards eyed her warily as she approached, whispering to each other. She straightened up and projected an air of haughtiness, hoping that confidence would keep their whispers just whispers.

Past the cells she strode, surreptitiously spying into the darkness. As her shadow fell past the bars, she heard scuffling followed by frightened whispers. Terrified of torchlight, the prisoners hid from sight. And as she felt for their youki, she found none. Instead, she smelled their sweat and excrement. They were only human.

Leaving the prison behind, she started to roam throughout the sprawling camp. With her other senses as focused as her eyes, she felt for even the faintest flickers of youki. Occasionally, she felt weak tingles of it, but they seemed as thin as afterthoughts. Huddled around their campfires, the men watched her as she peeked and prodded. With a few finding their sword hilts, she took care not to walk close to them or the outline of woods that bordered the shrine.

Soon, she found herself back at the prison, her fruitless search ending where it began. She dipped her hand into her sleeve, desperate to feel the tangle of hair that gave her courage. But she found nothing. She had forgotten it in the sleeve of her white coat long since gone.

With its loss, the weight of her plight came crushing down upon her shoulders. The burden too much, she slumped to the ground with her back resting against the wall of the prison. Folding her knees against her chest, she set her face onto them and cried. Through her frustrated tears, her mind drifted over the night's events and revelations as she tried to sort them out. As she tried to find a direction.

"Here you are," a cool voice spoke up.

She looked up with a start and found a familiar mask. "Have you come to take me back?" she asked.

"No," Kioshi replied.

"Then what do you want? I don't have an answer for any of you. Pursuing a life that involves the condemnation and elimination of entire species so that they can be butchered and bought as remedies for arthritis isn't an easy decision to make."

"Then you are considering it?"

"I am, but…" she began before her words failed as self-doubt consumed her. What was she saying? At first, she thought she was buying time. Keeping them interested in her so that she could save her allies but what if she was truly considering it? What if she believed Jianyu was right and that turning dangerous youkai into ash was a waste?

The image of a young woman in tightfitting leather hefting a massive boomerang appeared in her thoughts to spread further dissension. Sango and her exterminator clan used parts of slain youkai as weapons and armor and she never once thought it was bad. How was medicine any different?

Kioshi kinked her head to the side and crossed her arms.

"I don't know," Kagome admitted, "I don't know what to believe. I don't know what is right anymore. I just need to think. To find a direction."

Staring at her floundering in the choppy seas of the most difficult reality, Kioshi paused. With a slight nod, a bit of her icy exterior melted away and she approached. She crouched down to sit neatly on her shins beside Kagome.

"I was once without direction," she said softly as if the admission of vulnerability could only be uttered in whisper. "But my ideals and future were burnt away in far less time than one night."

"The scar on your face?" Kagome surmised.

"Yes."

"Did a youkai do it to you? Burn your village and kill your family, so now you're seeking revenge?"

"No," she chuckled dryly, "I was burned by another priestess."

"What? Why?"

"I was the best."

"Over that? You were burned for being the best?"

"I suppose being a priestess from such a rural area means that you don't understand what it's like to be one where the shrines are grand and the pagodas touch the heavens. I came from a magnificent shrine that I shared with numerous other priestesses. However, no matter if it was dancing, purification ceremonies, or healing remedies, I had no equal among them. The affluent learned of this, and I became the prized bloom revered as a gift from Amaterasu herself. Preference however breeds jealousy."

Taking a delicate finger to her mask, Kioshi traced a line across her cheek where the scar lay beneath.

"Boiling water used in one of our purification ceremonies," she continued, her voice growing colder. "The girl spouted clumsiness, but it was no accident. Inevitably, it didn't matter. The damage was done, and my wondrous skills paled beside hideousness that spoiled my cheek. You see, the rich and the noble want only the purest to purify them. Because of that, I was no longer desired and soon I was sent away to the country."

"That's horrible."

"That's life. It's brimming with horrors that mangle and scar the innocent and the naïve. I've witnessed much of it as I've traveled, and I've learned that the suffering I endured was nothing compared to petty wars and massacres I've experienced since. You cannot unsee what demons and humans do to those who are weaker than they are. You cannot unsee the broken lives that they leave in their wake. Many of the men who surround us are those who have lost everything. Jianyu gathered them up as he gathered me and gave us a purpose."

"Then you believe in what he says? About youkai being despised by the gods?"

"I am an imperial priestess. I cannot deny what my powers do to demons and his reasoning makes the most sense out of any that I've heard. But it's not a hatred of demons that spurs my actions, but a desire to help those who are suffering. If potions and salves refined from the bodies of demons will save countless lives, then I will give my life for it. I'm human. It's their survival that I serve."

Rising to her feet, Kioshi patted the dust from her knees and shins.

"Not all youkai kill humans," Kagome argued.

"The ones we capture have."

"That's not true!"

Gazing down, she caught the desperation in her eyes. "They all have at some time or another. Consider it and you'll know it to be true."

Smooth like ink slipping over paper, Kioshi walked away, leaving Kagome alone to think. Overwhelmed even more now, she didn't wade through her jumble of thoughts long before she felt the familiar weight of youki permeate the air. Bold and terrifying, it could only be his.


	9. Labyrinth

Chapter Nine: Labyrinth

Rising to her feet, Kagome focused on Sesshoumaru's swelling youki. Almost overwhelming, it thickened the air with an intensity that prickled her tongue with every shaky breath. Her hands rubbing her sleeves, she soothed the goose flesh tightening her skin. She'd never felt his presence so vividly, but despite its strength, it was strangely sterile, lacking any feeling.

'It was Sesshoumaru, wasn't it?' she thought, taking her first step toward the source. Even though she knew it was him and that he was a youkai who prided himself on self-control, he had never emitted youki so devoid of passion and spirit. No one did.

Her pace quickened and soon she rounded the corner of the prison.

She sighed, staring at the towering building ahead. The one place she hadn't looked would be the place that made the most sense. She headed across the yard and back toward the ominous silhouette of the pagoda. Into its dark shadow, she strode, her eyes on the entrance and purposefully not on the guards who haunted it.

Reaching the heavy doors, she swallowed down and took the door handle. A large bony hand seized her wrist and she winced as its grip pinched her tightly. Looking up to find her captor, she discovered a guard whose suspicious glare held her more firmly than his grip.

"I have to see Lady Kioshi," Kagome blurted out a lie, hoping the moonlight would hide the telling blush of her cheeks. "I have the answer Lord Jianyu wanted."

His grip lessened slightly as he considered her.

She gritted her teeth, the tension wearing on her nerves.

"Very well," he replied, his voice hollow and cold. He released her to reach for the door and slid it open. With a curt wave, he gestured for her to enter.

Rubbing at her wrist, Kagome walked in and the door sealed behind her. She headed across the massive hall toward the stairwell. His oppressive youki swelled around her, its weight bowing her shoulders and back. It seeped through her, thickening in her chest. Coughing lightly, she tried to alleviate the tightening sensation, but it wouldn't budge and grew instead.

When she reached the stairs, she half-stumbled up them, struggling against the youki. At the top of the first flight, she entered a thick fog of incense, the hazy wisps curling out of the way as she waded through to the sealed-up room.

At its entrance, she placed her hand on its door. A mixture of youki warmed the surface, too muddled together for her to distinguish the individual sources. Then another pulse of Sesshoumaru's youki drenched her in sweat, and she turned back towards the stairwell that led to the next floor. He was up there.

Nearly tipping over the incense jars, she rushed toward the next flight of stairs and staggered up them. The third floor mirroring the second, she hastily made her way through the smoke and reached for the door. When she touched it, she hissed and jerked her hand away. Gently, she rubbed her burnt palm and swallowed hard. He was here.

A heavy but simple sliding door, her hand hovered over its surface as she systematically searched for any barriers or hidden magic that might raise an alarm. It was only youki that burned here. She straightened up and again reached for the door handle. But, before she could grasp it, her fingers curled toward her palm in indecision.

'How much did he hate her right now?' she wondered, remembering his rage when she had pierced his side. If she saved him, he'd most likely kill her. The memory of the lifeless priestess he had ripped open shoved its way into her mind, only now it bore her face. Would he eat her just like he had eaten Lady Nao? Did she deserve it? Or did he deserve to be eaten like those he'd killed and eaten over his centuries-long lifetime? Who was right? Or were they both wrong?

Her hand found her forehead, and she massaged her temples where a budding headache had begun to brew.

Creaking softly, the sound of footsteps on the floor above her evaporated her indecision. Gritting her teeth, she grabbed the door handle. Wincing, she slid the door open and blindly stepped in before spinning around to shut it hastily. Torrents of youki churned around her as she waited by the door, listening for any approaching footfalls.

"So, now you have accepted their attire," a deep voice accused darkly.

She froze. A fresh fear coursed through her and she clasped her hands together, hoping to stop their trembling.

"How does it fit? Well, I imagine."

Heart straining in her throat, she slowly turned around. Downcast upon the floor, her eyes lingered on the trail of rust-colored stains and slowly rose as they led her to the fresh blood that hadn't yet browned with time. At the center of a red pool, she found the base of an enormous slab of granite, ground flat along one side. Blood trickled down the flat side, and she followed it up until she met blood-drenched skin and raw flesh. Quickly, she turned away, her eyes squeezed shut and begging to forget.

"Do you fear the consequences of your actions, miko?" Sesshoumaru growled icily. "Look at me and see what your betrayal has done."

She remained still.

"Look at me!"

With his seething roar, she looked up, unable to deny him any further. With elaborately knotted rope biting into his arms and legs, he hung from the front of the slab with his bare body displayed shamelessly before her. Hair once as silver as moonlight was now stained red and clung to his skin in thick mats. Glinting amber in the lamplight, a dozen needles protruded from him, each with a cluster of bells. Rivulets of blood seeped where they pierced him, drawing delicate designs along the lines of his body before dripping onto the floor.

Then her breath hitched, and bile surged up her throat.

Just below the ribs on his right side, a cruel black opening gaped. Skin and muscle sliced through, his flesh was peeled back and pinned in place. Inside the opening, she could see his exposed organs. Glimpses of his stomach and intestines glistened along the edges and in the center a strange emptiness floated, bloody and dark.

"Justice, wouldn't you say?" he said, noticing where her attention hovered. "A fitting punishment exacted upon me for my crime this evening."

"They cut out your liver," she whispered, the urge to retch keeping her voice low. She swallowed the salty lump in her throat, and her hand found her mouth as she took a step toward him.

"Yes."

"They did this to you for revenge? For what you did to Lady Nao?"

"They did this to me for you," he corrected.

"For me? I-I didn't ask for-"

"For all of you," he interrupted, and then his hoarse voice turned to acid. "For human longevity, we are butchered and made into paste."

"You knew about them before tonight?"

"What youkai with a modicum of sense hasn't? Youkai poaching for medicine is an ancient trade. That I believed they'd never have the gall to attack a daiyoukai was a failing on my part. A fatal one." A dark chuckle rumbled from him.

With it, she finally risked looking at his face. Pale and gaunt, his mask of inscrutability was gone, replaced by smoldering rage and agony. Sunken in their bruised sockets, his bloodshot eyes pierced her deeper than his dying hollow laugh.

"Now I realize that the defeat of Naraku was not a victory at all, and that is perhaps the deepest of wounds," he added.

"How so?" she asked, suddenly defensive. "We saved all of Japan when we killed him and wished away the Shikon-no-Tama, humans and youkai alike."

"Ignorant. Little. Human," he rebuked with disgust, "You wear their clothing and perhaps now you heed their fox tongues. So certain are you? Then enlighten me with your truth."

Her argument drying up, she considered him quietly.

"Then tell me the truth," she said, "Why wasn't Naraku's death a victory? I don't understand. We killed him."

His turn for silence, he stared at her, debating the earnestness of her interest.

He finally snorted. "The act of slaying Naraku wasn't the failure. His death was a feat worth a good measure of pride, but it came too late. I told you what has become of our numbers over the course of that vile half-breed's reign."

"There are fewer of you."

"Thousands were absorbed or used as fodder in battle by him. Small and weak-willed, they couldn't escape his hunger for power. Unfortunately, these youkai were also the game for the stronger ones who managed to elude his lure. Without their food source, they were forced to hunt others. To hunt humans."

"The attacks on villages lately."

"Yes, and with it we have the emergence of hunters like the ones who harbor you at this very moment. The easier youkai that were preferred for the medicine trade are gone, and now they must pursue more dangerous prey. Too dangerous for the gold they're willing to part with, so these sly merchants now hide behind guises of righteousness to convince the foolish. Thus, what remains of our kind are purged to fill their purses."

"They said what they do is the will of the gods. That the gods despise youkai and that's why we as their servants can purify them."

His unnatural chuckle erupted again and she shifted nervously until it died away.

"Indeed, they likely do, but who are you or these hunters to decide if we deserve death? Humans aren't gods even if they lend you a spark of their power."

"All the same, even if the gods haven't explicitly decreed it, some youkai are evil," she argued. "They don't hunt a human here and there to keep from starving. They slaughter indiscriminately, and when they do, they enjoy it."

"Are you imagining me as you argue this?"

Swallowing dryly, she didn't reply.

"No doubt," he answered for her and a smirk teased the corner of his cracked lips, "But I've told you before not to hold me to the standards of humanity. The ways of a youkai lord are not the ways of a human."

"But you affect humans."

"I affect everyone," he corrected with disdain. "Am I evil for it? Perhaps. If the countless lives I've taken are the testament of my nature, then so be it. I'm evil, pure and sadistic."

"Then do you deserve to die like any other evil youkai? Purified away like those who destroy villages, or in this case, to be used as medicine to save lives?"

"Again, you insist on binding me to human law," he sighed, "I tire of this direction, but if you must entertain it, then I suppose for the purpose of this conversation, I will as well. If what you speak is the fate of those who are evil, for those who kill, then it's inevitable that I would find myself here, hung like a boar and bleeding out before being butchered. However, if I'm being held to these standards, then so should you."

"What do you mean?"

"For all the humans I've killed, you have killed nearly as many youkai. If we youkai are bound to the rules of humanity, then your slaughtering of us should be bound to them as well."

Speechless for a few breaths, she stared at him in disbelief.

"I'm not evil."

"Are you?"

"A-Any youkai I've purified was to defend the innocent. I had to kill them to save the people they were attacking."

"And I'm not permitted to defend myself or my followers? I should instead allow legions of samurai to assault me, because if I kill them, it will make me evil. I think not."

"But you enjoy killing them."

"What difference does one's emotion make to the dead? Whether I'm pleased or saddened by my acts, it has no bearing on those who have died."

She cupped her face with her hands and rubbed gently. Her mind was lost in a labyrinth with each path leading her to a dead end. Soon, a sinking weariness weighed on her, and she was consumed by a desire to find a place to lie down. More than anything, she wanted to sleep away what remained of the night, so that she could wake up and dismiss it as some terrible nightmare. So that she could continue blindly with her simple life. How easy it would be.

Then thick white hair and firerat fur ghosted through her memory, and she knew there was no simple life to return to after this. He was still missing and if she dwelled on it too long, tears burned her eyes.

"I don't know what to do," she murmured. "I don't know what is right or wrong. I don't know what to choose anymore."

"But you must choose," he replied, "Ignorance is no longer your guide and you cannot travel both paths."

"But I don't want to!" she half-cried, her voice cracking, and the tears she held back began to spill down her cheeks. "Humans or youkai. I don't want there to be a difference in how I think of them, because he's… He's both. And I… I love all of him."

"Then don't choose between human and youkai," he said with an almost imperceptible kindness. "Choose between life and death."

"What?"

"Be willing to kill both alike or vow to never kill another youkai again. Hold everyone to your human standards or none at all."

"Kill humans?"

"Those arrows of yours can pierce more than youkai, miko."

"No, I can't. That's wrong. I can't even… No."

"Then never kill anyone again," he growled harshly, "This world doesn't need another hypocrite. Another fool who is too blinded by ideals to see the reality stumbling their feet."

The last insult too much, she stormed up to him.

"I am not a hypocrite," she ground out.

Sesshoumaru paused, his pained expression becoming vaguely quizzical. He carefully sniffed the air. Then a fog of red tinted his eyes and his youki surged wrathfully. Brightening to molten white, the needles impaling him glowed hot as they routed the swelling youki. Tendrils of purple tissue grew and attached within the empty cavity in his abdomen.

"Treacherous bitch," he snarled, the uncouth slur rolling off his aristocratic tongue. "That I thought perhaps to spare your life once I attained freedom. Now I'm relieved that that's one imprudent mistake I shall not make."

Rising up, he pulled hard on his binds, the ropes sparkling pink as he struggled. Sweet and slightly acrid, his skin sizzled and blistered as he struggled, causing bubbling blood to trickle down his arms and feet.

Stumbling back, she watched in horror as he continued to fight.

"To spout your love for him after what you've done," he added with a cold rage, "You will die and I, Sesshoumaru will be the one to kill you."

"Inuyasha?" she asked, blinking away her shock. "What do you know about him?! Where is he?!"

"Your deceitful words hold no meaning now, human. Do not feign ignorance. It will only serve you a more torturous death."

"What happened to him?!" she yelled, wild fury pulsing through her. "Tell me what you know! Tell me where he is!"

"I've entertained you enough for one evening. Now pray to your precious gods. It will be your last opportunity."

"You're going to tell me!"

Ignoring his threatening claws and menacing blood-red glare, she dove in close to him. The ropes held tight, and somewhere beyond his vows of death, she knew hers wouldn't be by his hand in that moment. Grabbing a needle, she pressed it in.

"Tell me where he is!" she yelled again, driving it in deeper, desperate for an answer and willing to do what it took to get it.

Grimacing, he fell silent.

"I need to know!" she begged, her vision blurring as she pushed in another needle, blood gushing out. "Where is he?! I need him! Just tell me where he is!"

He slowly slumped, his youki ebbing.

"Where is he?! Tell me!"

"He's like all youkai," he managed to whisper before succumbing, "He's under your feet."

Head bowed, he hung motionless. Kagome backed away, her bloody hand over her mouth. Had she been able to think, to find reason amid the chaos that swarmed her, she never would have done it. As it was though, the only clarity was her purpose for being there to begin with. To find Inuyasha.

Pulling her hand away from her mouth, she stared at the blood. Blood that she had spilled. The burn of guilt corroded her insides. What had she done? Her body numb, she collapsed onto the floor. This couldn't be real. A surreal haze fell over her and her eyes drifted over the old bloodstains that tainted the floor until they came to rest on her bandaged ankle.

"He's under my feet," she murmured, running her finger along the contours of the bandage until a clump of salve stuck to it. Rubbing the oily paste between her forefinger and thumb, its red tones smeared beside Sesshoumaru's blood on her hand. Then she was quickly wrenched from her daze and her cheeks drained to a white pall.

Inuyasha was the salve.


	10. Sacrifice

Chapter Ten: Sacrifice

It was quiet.

Reaching out with red fingers, the pool of blood surrounding the boulder spread across floor, creeping towards Kagome. And as it soaked through her pants, she sat unaware of it, lost to numbness as she stared at the salve that smeared her fingers. It was warm, and her cheek remembered resting against his broad back as the endless blur of trees raced by. It glittered, and her eyes remembered his golden ones glimmering at sunset after the rain. It tingled as she rubbed it between her fingers, and her lips remembered his mouth pressed softly against hers when he kissed her for the first time.

Inuyasha was gone, and all that was left of him was on her hands and in her memories. Their quest for the Shikon-no-Tama shards, the betrayal and acceptance of Kikyo, the final battle with Naraku, and the years of waiting to return. All the triumphs and all the loss. All they had endured. All gone in one night.

A shuddering sigh left her, her first breath in an eternity. Moving of their own accord, her hands found the loosened bandage and unraveled it. Soon it was cradled against her chest. What salve that still clung to her ankle and foot was wiped up and added to the tangled clump. Then she tucked it into her sleeve. She needed something to bury if there was nothing else to find.

The approaching thump of footsteps resonated beyond the door,

With the threat of being discovered looming, she felt strangely immune to any concern. There was nothing they could do to her now that would hurt more than what had already been done. Then without her consent, her legs began to move, lifting her wilted body up and carrying her to safety behind the boulder. There she collapsed, and her head lolled back to settle against it.

The door glided open and two silhouettes filled the entrance, Jianyu and Kioshi. At their backs, several guards waited, one carrying a cooking pot. They scanned the room, their attention lingering on the dangerous daiyoukai that hung lifelessly at its center.

The merchant hummed his disappointment as he stared at the demon. "And I had high hopes."

Catching Kioshi's gaze, he nodded towards Sesshoumaru.

Moving silently, she crossed the room she was a few steps away from the boulder. Her hand dipping into her sleeve, she retrieved a needle, its bells jingling as she held it out readily. Then she crossed the puddle of blood.

His head hanging, Sesshoumaru's face lay hidden under long, sticky tendrils of hair. As she neared him, she held the needle over the old wound at his side. She dipped under his chin and pressed her ear against his chest, listening for his heartbeat. After a moment, she gave a satisfied nod and stepped back to face Jianyu.

"It lives," she called out, "But barely."

He nodded.

Returning her attention to the daiyoukai, her gaze settled on fresh rivulets of blood. She traced them up his torso until she discovered a deeply embedded needle. Only the tiny bells were visible with the rest of it driven through flesh and bone. Looking about briefly, she found another one that had been pushed in as deep.

"It's been tortured," she remarked. "That would explain the flare of youki I sensed earlier."

From his body to the blood at her feet, she continued to inspect for clues when she found a trail of red smears. Easily footprints, the tracks dragged along the floor, leading away towards the back of the room. From the shape and size, she knew of only one who could have left them, and she looked back at the daiyoukai. So vigorously had the other priestess fought to claim it. To protect it. And now, she presses needles into its defenseless body until it nearly dies. Had she decided to join them? Or was this her own sense of justice? A wish to punish it for the evils it had done.

Keen to demand answers, she took a step towards the rear of the room.

"Lady Kioshi," Jianyu spoke up.

She stopped.

"Let our trespasser be."

"Jianyu-sama, she-"

"There is nothing to fear from a coward who stabs a beast that cannot fight back. Leave her be and examine its wound."

"As you wish, my lord."

With only one exit, she knew there was no escape from the priestess.

She turned to face the daiyoukai again. Surrounded by the ooze of clotting blood, the long gash gaped open. And as she peered inside, a gasp escaped her. Purple in tone and firm in texture, a new, regenerated liver lay where only dark emptiness had hung before.

"It worked, Jianyu-sama. The liver has grown back," she said with breathless astonishment, "You have your Prometheus."

Still crumpled where she fell, the foreign name penetrated Kagome's mind. It burned away the despair and hopelessness, consuming her thoughts. He has his Prometheus? What did Kioshi mean by that? Then she heard everything as she roused herself to listen.

"Amazing," the merchant replied, and he eagerly walked over, wanting to see it for himself. But as he approached, his silk slippers stopped short of the spilt blood, his nose wrinkling in disgust. He composed himself. "After all our searching, we have finally found one strong enough to endure. How does the organ appear?"

"Healthy. It should yield quite a bit, perhaps enough for an entire village."

"And it?"

Gesturing towards the entrance, she stole the attention of one of the guards, and he quickly joined her side.

"Lift its head," she ordered as she unraveled the bandages from around her hand.

The guard grabbed Sesshoumaru by his bangs and drew his head up.

She brushed her fingers over his cheek and hovered them in front of his slightly open mouth, noting the coolness of his skin and the shallowness of his breathing. "Not well. It may not survive much longer if the strength of its youki continues to deteriorate."

"I see," Jianyu replied pensively, and then his eyes brightened, "What has become of its companions? Were there any of adequate strength that accompanied it? Ones that could replace it should it not survive?"

With his question, an unexpected glimmer pierced Kagome's dark reality and she strained to hear every word. And as quickly, her hope was gone.

"None survived," Kioshi said dryly, "Its two-headed mount was too bestial to be used in this fashion, so it has already been butchered and ground up. The smaller youkai died in the field from the ambush. We have its body, but there is not much of it to be of use. Drying it will be the best option."

"And the abomination?"

Stiffening at the sound of the slur, Kagome's jaw clenched. Buried beneath the numbness deep within her heart, a flicker of anger began to burn.

"It seemed strong at first," Kioshi explained, "It did, after all, survive our initial assault in the field. From its appearance, I would say it was most likely related to this one, possibly an offspring."

"Hmm."

"Being a half-breed however, its weaker youki was considerably less resilient than that of a full-blooded demon. Between the blood loss and the youki-routing needles, it succumbed not long after we removed its liver and a portion of its stomach."

"Pity."

"Hardly, my lord. While its organs are a great deal more effective than one expects with its diluted blood, they will only heal minor injuries such as bruises or cuts. It would be a waste to process."

"Then we shall have to rely on this one," he sighed. "Too many have died in the hunts recently, and with demons growing scarcer, it seems that soon only the truly dangerous ones will remain. We need a Prometheus. We need this Prometheus."

"A youkai from which we can harvest an unlimited supply of organs," she replied. "One that could make enough medicine so that we would never have to hunt again."

He nodded.

"But until now, they have all died for one reason or another," he went on, "It seems though that if we can preserve its youki, it could survive the wounds and continue to grow what we need."

Anticipating his line of thought, she waved towards the guard carrying the cooking pot.

"What is that?" Jianyu asked as the man passed by.

"Our assurance that it will survive, my lord," she explained, "I have already taken measures after noting how the others have perished. We must replenish its youki if it is to live and to do that, we must feed it."

"Feed it what?"

"What we cannot use. Demons consume each other as much as they do humans, so why not feed it the ones that we won't make into medicine."

'The ones that they won't make into medicine,' Kagome mouthed soundlessly, her eyes widening in horror and a sickening knot twisted in her belly. They wouldn't, would they? They knew they were related, didn't they? They knew it.

"It would at the very least be worth the try to see if it works," Kioshi finished.

"Very well," he replied.

She turned towards the guard still suspending Sesshoumaru's head. Catching her look, the guard pitched the daiyoukai's head back further and brought his other hand up to pull down on his chin. His mouth parted and the waiting guard removed the lid on the pot. With wisps of steam escaping, a red-brown broth cooled inside the container.

"Go ahead," she ordered, and he stepped forward, lifting the pot to Sesshoumaru's lips.

"No," Kagome whispered, her hands clutching the sides of her head, her nails ripping out strands of her hair. "They're brothers. You can't do that. You can't."

Tipping the pot, the guard poured the broth into Sesshoumaru's mouth. Overflowing at first, it trickled out the corners of his mouth and drizzled down his chin. The daiyoukai coughed as it gushed down his throat, and he pulled feebly on his ropes as he attempted to resist it.

The sound of his struggle thundered in her ears, and when Kagome thought she hadn't the strength to stand, she found herself on her feet. And when she thought she hadn't the will to fight, she found her voice.

"No!" she yelled shakily.

Startled, the guards jumped and some of the broth sloshed onto the floor.

"You can't do this to them!" she continued. "They don't deserve it!"

"If you object Lady Kagome, then come out and speak with us," Jianyu offered as he silently signaled the guards to leave the feeding for later.

Hesitantly, she appeared, her body trembling more than her voice. She crossed her arms, hoping to soothe her nerves. They had to stop. This wasn't right. None of it was.

"You have to stop. They don't deserve this."

"Who are they?" he asked.

"They were brothers and because of them, many human lives have been saved. This is wrong! They deserve better!"

"And now many more lives will be saved for their sacrifice."

"What right do you have to make them sacrifices?!"

"What right do you have to eat fish from the sea or a hare in the field?" he countered, tiring of her lack of respect. "They're demons, beasts forsaken by the gods. If you could save a man's life at the expense of a hare's, would you not kill it? If you could save a village at the expense of a demon's life, would you not slay it? What if it didn't even need to die?"

"This isn't life," she bit out. "This is torture. This is inhumane. Demons have feelings. They have family."

"And a fish doesn't know joy when it discovers a drowning cricket or fear when the hook sinks into its mouth? The hare doesn't have a mother and father or brothers and sisters when it's born? An unfettered existence you must have lived, Lady Kagome, and one you shall no longer keep. There's no place for conflicted priestesses in our ranks." Waving a hand towards the guards, they swooped down on her, grabbing her wrists before she could twist away. "However, it's a pity. Your talents would have been greatly appreciated by us and by the gods."

"Jianyu-sama."

"Yes, Lady Kioshi?" he replied, smoothing away any stray hairs that had loosened from his braid.

"I believe it has absorbed enough to survive," she informed him, glancing at Kagome as she spoke, her eyes bereft of all feeling except pity. "Shall we remove it again or shall we aim for another organ?"

"If you believe it won't perish as a result, then you're welcome to take what suits you."

"It won't," she replied assuredly, and her hand slipped to the tanto knife sheathed in her sash. She took the hilt and pulled it free. The blade glinted amber in the lamplight and she turned to face Sesshoumaru.

'Be willing to kill youkai and humans alike or vow to never kill another demon again,' the daiyoukai rasped painfully in Kagome's memory. 'Hold everyone to your human standards or none at all.'

Kioshi moved towards him, the dagger aimed at the open wound and the choice of organs she intended to remove.

'I can't choose between humans and youkai.' Kagome thought, 'Not after what they've done to Inuyasha. Not after what they're going to do to you. Both sides are capable of extraordinary kindness and extraordinary cruelty. And neither is better or worse than the other.'

Distracted by a twisted fascination with the demon and its fate, the guards' grip on her loosened.

'But that's not the only choice, is it? There's one more I can make.'

Yanking hard, she broke away from their grasp and sprinted forward.

'There's one more.'

Yanking a needle free from Sesshoumaru's body, Kagome plunged it deep through Kioshi's back.

Kioshi's dagger fell from her hand. Shock blending with agony, her shaky fingers felt for her chest and discovered the point of a needle. Staggering, she turned around to find Kagome's ashen face and surprised stare that reflected her own disbelief. Then her astonishment melted away. For a moment, she wore the calm look of a woman who could only expect betrayal. Her eyes dulled, and she collapsed lifelessly in a heap of crumpled clothing.

Kagome scooped up the dagger and slid it under one of Sesshoumaru's binds. Drawing it hard and quick against the rope, she severed it and went for the next. Again, she slashed, uncaring as she nicked him in her haste. She had cut several more when a hot, burning pain found her shoulder and another struck her deep in her back. The taste of metal flavored her tongue, and she felt her strength drain. Dizzy and lightheaded, coughs wet with blood racked her, and despite her desperation to stand, she fell onto the floor.

The knots unraveling, the rope that secured him to the boulder gave, and he slid down the rock before falling free. With a heavy thump, he struck the floor beside her, his placid, blood-spattered face facing hers. Her vision darkened. Somewhere far away, men shouted. And with what strength she had left, she whispered to him.

"Get up, Sesshoumaru. You're free. You're free."


	11. Retribution Waits

Chapter Eleven: Retribution Waits

Skin pale but for the splatter of blood dripping down his cheek, Sesshoumaru lay where he fell.

And with every moment that passed, Kagome's sacrifice lost meaning as he remained at their enemy's mercy. She clung to his survival, and her hand trembled as she gathered the strength to move it. He had to escape. He had to live. It wasn't too late.

Burning in her shoulder and back overwhelmed her with excruciating pain. She was drenched in sweat and her vision whirled with dizzying spots of light. Closing her eyes, she pushed through the hurt until her hand rose. Slowly, she moved, inching her way towards Sesshoumaru.

A guard stomped down on her hand, wrenching a wet cry from her lips. He shifted his weight to apply more pressure, and she gritted her teeth, stifling her cries until they were whimpers.

Somewhere above her, voices decided her fate. With her heart pounding in her ears, she couldn't make out their words. But she didn't need hear them to know their intent.

Steel flashed as the guard above her raised his sword.

Floundering pitifully, she tried to free herself from his foot. When she had made the decision to stab Kioshi to save Sesshoumaru, she had accepted that her death was inevitable. Yet, a part of her still struggled to keep going. The will to survive pulsed through her. But even as it pumped, she realized that the drive to live was only as great as what awaited her at the battle's finish. With guilt and loneliness as future companions, apathy overcame her. In truth, she didn't care to welcome the dawn. After all, Inuyasha was dead and soon she would join him. Her only solace was that her end would be a good one.

The sword hovered over the back of her neck. Her breathing slowed as she waited for it to drop. A strange sense of calm fell over her, and she knew it was time. She closed her eyes.

A vicious growl.

Droplets splattered her cheek.

Her eyes cracked open, and a striped wrist filled her vision. She followed it to a hand and the blade it gripped, the steel cutting into its flesh. A jagged snarl pierced the air and hot ragged breaths burned her ear. And when she turned her head to look, she discovered glowing red eyes and gleaming fangs.

Sesshoumaru yanked the sword towards him, pulling the guard along with it. He stumbled onto his knees, and before he could react, there was a spray of blood as the daiyoukai slashed his throat.

Stunned, Jianyu and the remaining guard looked on in a trance as their comrade let out bubbling, high-pitched screams. Desperately, he fought against Sesshoumaru as he was flipped over onto his back, clawing at his forearms and reaching for his face. Unfazed, Sesshoumaru dug both sets of claws into the center of his chest, and then without hesitation, he pulled them apart. Bones snapped and flesh tore as he ripped open his ribcage.

Panicked shrieks escaped the guard as he stared at the bloody hole in his chest and his beating heart peeking out from beneath the mangled tissue. Feebly, he pulled at Sesshoumaru's arm as he reached for it. Slippery as it pumped in his hand, the daiyoukai tore the heart free, blood spurting as the guard's final scream ended in a gurgle.

His fangs ripping into it, he tore off a chunk of the heart and swallowed it whole. Quickly he devoured the rest, blood gushing down his chin. Then he reached for the liver. With a jerk, he freed it. His hands trembling, he wolfed it down with the shakiness of a starving animal.

Quaking as badly as the hungry daiyoukai, Jianyu took a step back, edging towards the door behind him.

Then red eyes discovered him.

He fled from the room with the last guard just behind him. Their footfalls thundered down the stairwell.

Snarling in disgust, Sesshoumaru's glare left the doorway for his stained and naked body. Winking gold, needles protruded from him at all angles. Grimacing, he began to pull them out, careful not to let them jingle as he set them down. With the last one gone, the sensation of his youki flowing naturally bolstered his strength, and his attention fell to the open wound in his abdomen.

His claws found the pins keeping it agape, and he began to extract them, scowling as his tender flesh stuck to them. Once they were removed, the flaps of skin and muscle hung loosely, and he gathered them together to close the wound. Sickly green in color, a light glowed from beneath his hands and the wound sealed.

Shivering from the effort, perspiration dappled his skin. His youki faded and he felt light-headed. Swaying slightly, he collapsed in a daze.

Then his stomach roared, twisting hard with hunger.

He gritted his teeth until the pain subsided. Desperate to feed, he looked to the guard's empty husk. Shredded by claws, the unsavory remnants left him disgusted, and he tossed the corpse away. In a shrine brimming with enemies, he knew there were better meals to be had.

Face down not far from him, Kagome's limp body caught his attention. Meals that were perhaps more readily available than he thought.

Smoldering rage burned in his chest, flaring up as he considered each betrayal brought by her hand that night. Oddly, the fact that she had sacrificed him didn't wear on his opinion of her nor did her staunch defense humanity before youkai. The acts were deserving of death, but to slay all who were simply misguided and ignorant would leave the world barren of wisdom. After all, an enlightened priestess was more advantageous than a martyred one. However, Inuyasha, as foolish and as contemptible as he was, deserved better than what was done to him, and in vengeance, she would know the same end.

His eyes narrowing, he slid across the floor towards her. Her coat was torn with a long slash at her shoulder and a puncture in her back, each covered in blood. As he crept closer, disappointment brewed as it seemed that her life had already been bled from her body. To kill her would have been satisfying, but he couldn't deny the poetry of her death at the swords of the humans she had chosen to follow.

Another pang of hunger shuddered inside him, and he reached for her arm, wondering how sweet her flavor would be. Taking her wrist, he dragged her towards him.

"Sesshoumaru," she murmured.

He continued to pull, darkly pleased that he had been wrong about her death.

"Sesshoumaru."

He flipped her over, his claws slicing through her coats to reveal her soft chest.

"Sesshoumaru, get up. You're free."

Claws ghosting over skin paused, and he stared at her face, his attention fixed on her mumbling lips. What had she said?

"What?" he asked.

"You're free," she repeated, her body beginning to shiver from shock. "I cut you free."

Following the smear of blood back to where she had been struck down, the glint of a dagger caught his eye. He remembered it well. It belonged to the masked priestess who had dissected him earlier, the violation still fresh in his mind.

He turned to spy up at the boulder behind him. Severed ropes dangled from it. The truth spoken, she had freed him. And the corpse beneath the rock proved how. Indisputably dead, the priestess lay in her own puddle, the tiny point of a needle protruding through her chest. The events falling into place, he now understood why Kagome had been felled by the guards.

He snorted. His hand finding her jaw, he turned her face towards him with consideration.

Then his hunger shredded his insides again.

OOOOOOOOOO

Shivering in a pool of blood, Kagome weakly tucked her limbs together for warmth. Numbed by pain and fatigue, her chill barely registered beside the heaviness that pressed her down. Death she had hoped was near. After all, through the shadowy haze, she had heard its cold voice and seen its blood-stained face with piercing, gold eyes. 

The earlier shrieks of terror were gone, and she envied how swift that death had been. Hers seemed to drag on, and she wondered if it was what she deserved. How many had suffered because of her ignorance? How many will suffer because of her final decision? Yet, whether it was punishment or justice, she just wanted it all to stop, so that she could have her peace in oblivion.

Then another coughing fit seized her liquid-filled lungs, and she shook hard with each spasm. Blood sputtered from her lips, and she clenched at her chest until they subsided. It seemed like life wouldn't let her go so easily.

A sensation of weightlessness overcame the heaviness of her body, and she felt herself rise from the floor. She smiled at first, believing that her time had come, but the feel of claws brushing the nape of her neck confused her. Sesshoumaru had picked her up. Then came the feel of his shoulder pressed against her stomach. He draped her over it, leaving her arms and head to hang down his broad back. Through her foggy vision, she could make out the matted tangle of his hair and the splattered floor just beyond it.

Then the ground spun as the he turned on his heel. Quietly, he began to cross the room.

A black and red blur, she gasped as he stepped over Kioshi's corpse. Carved open, she was emptied of the more palatable organs.

Seeing what had become of her, a pang of remorse struck Kagome, and she recalled the priestess who was now twice betrayed by her own sisterhood. Her guilt though remained only a twinge. She had done what she had thought was right, just as Kioshi had done what she had believed in as well. Either way, it wouldn't matter for much longer.

Leaving the room, Sesshoumaru moved swiftly and lightly, navigating around the incense pots to the stairwell that led down. Bare feet padding down the steps, he arrived at the second floor and slid the door open.

A maze of tables burdened with crates and clay jars filled the room. Bundles of herbs lined the walls, their sweet scents muting the heavy tones of metal that clung in the air.

He walked to the closest table and picked up several of the small pots, letting their rims pass under his nose. Scowling in dissatisfaction, he returned each one with a clatter until one prickled his senses. He sniffed it a second time and nodded. This one would do.

Swiping with his hand, he cleared the table of its contents with shattering results. Then he threw his shoulder forward, letting Kagome slide from him onto the table. He pulled her tattered coats open, revealing the bare skin beneath. Flipping her over onto her stomach, he pulled her clothing away from her back. Bloody but clean, he examined her wounds, noting the shallowness of the one at her shoulder and the concerning depth of the other in her back.

Contesting him, a whimper escaped her as he ran his fingers over the cuts, but he paid her no mind. Instead, he dipped his hand into the paste within the jar. Oily and fragrant, he smeared it into the wounds, packing generous quantities into the deeper one. He could feel the tingle youki in them, and the oozing blood staunched as the tissue began to regrow. It wouldn't do much more than encourage healing in injuries so severe, but she would survive long enough. Long enough for her to explain what she had done.

Casting about briefly, he spied a roll of bandages in a crate, and he proceeded to dress the wounds. Once finished, he turned her over and redressed her. Her breathing strong and clear to match her heartbeat, he now only had to wait.

Pounding in his ears, the footfalls of men drummed through the great hall below.

A growl rumbled in his throat.

The coward had finally summoned his army.

His hand tightened into a fist as he tested his strength. And with it, a wicked smile hinted at his lips. He would enjoy this. A pale green glow enveloped his fist, the light casting shadows across his face. He would enjoy this greatly.


	12. Sunrise

Chapter Twelve: Sunrise

The guards' hurried thumping softened when they met the stairs, and they stealthily slipped up them. Their swords in hand, they moved in a single file, their eyes flitting over every dark corner as they searched for glowing red or a flash of silver.

Holding up a fist, Daisuke stopped, and his followers instantly heeded his command. His gaze fixed on the open doorway on the second story, he watched it for a long while. Then he signaled his men to be ready. Quietly, they approached.

At the entryway, he paused again, surveying the room. Other than spilled medicine and fragments of pottery scattered on the floor, nothing seemed out of place.

His eyes narrowed. Draped across a table was an unconscious woman. From where he stood, he could see her face and at once recognized her as the captured priestess. Lord Jianyu had said that she was struck down when she killed Lady Kioshi, but if she were dead, what was she doing here?

Warily, he began to walk towards her. Seeking answers was not his profession, and he had only one order. Leave no intruder alive.

He arrived at her side, the tip of his sword lowered, ready to thrust through her heart.

As still as the dead, she laid before him, and he wondered whether stabbing her was necessary.

Her closed eyes fluttered open, startling him. She stared blankly up at him, and an incoherent word slipped from her lips.

"What?" he whispered.

"Sesshoumaru," she mumbled again.

"Who?" he asked, and then a terrifying realization chilled him through. Her eyes were not in fact looking at him, but above him.

Swallowing, he slowly looked up.

Claws dug into the ceiling, the daiyoukai glared back down at him with blood red eyes. Shavings falling, he released his grip and dropped.

Quickly, Daisuke swung his sword at him in a rising arc, but his fast reflexes were outmatched as the swifter daiyoukai landed on top of him. Crushing him in the sickening snap of bones, Sesshoumaru crouched nimbly on the mangled body that still struggled beneath him. Then in one motion, he ripped the sword away and stabbed Daisuke through the spine, ending his fight.

His gleaming eyes rose to the stunned men still at the doorway, and he slowly stood up. A sinister smirk kinked his lips, and then with slow and deliberate steps, he approached.

Letting out their battle cries, they rallied. Then as one, they plunged forward, their swords brandished out front as they ran. But only an afterimage of blood and silver met them.

His wrist breaking, the outermost men screamed in agony as Sesshoumaru appeared beside him, his sword arm in his hand. Then, the daiyoukai deflected the man's aim, turning his sword towards his comrades, impaling the one beside him through the abdomen. Consumed by their terror, the men turned on him, stabbing him through. The man collapsed, and with a kick, Sesshoumaru sent his body flying into the others. They tumbled into one another, shrieking and flailing wildly as the fell onto the floor. In their panic, their swords sliced lethally into each other.

Leaving them to their terror, Sesshoumaru turned to face the rest, his body hunched and his eyes on fire. A growl grew into a snarl.

The staggered guards stumbled back.

Then, he lunged into them. Flashes of pain seared his arms and chest as their swords sliced into him, but he didn't feel it. There were only his claws and their tender flesh. He tore through their soft bellies. Gushing blood turned into slurry as acid poured from his claws. It dissolved their innards and choked the air. Soon corroding corpses littered the entryway and hall, bubbling black with only their limbs and heads left unscathed.

His chest heaving, Sesshoumaru stood among them, his body painted red and muscles twitching. Bright and green, his youki sizzled across his skin, healing his gashes.

Then he was gone. Making no sound, he headed down the stairs. There was no need for haste. There was nowhere they could run that he couldn't find them. This was a hunt he would savor. And from their deaths, he would take the greatest pleasure. Especially their lord's.

As he crossed the great hall, his crushing youki blew out lamps and fractured statues. Ahead, the heavy doors leading out were sealed. Beyond them, he heard orders given and dozens of racing heartbeats. An army waited for a demon and a demon they would get.

OOOOOOOOOO

A loud bang met the door and cracks fanned out over the mural carved across its surface.

Quaking where they stood, legions of men waited, the whites of their eyes bright through the holes of their masks. Those in front flinched as another bang struck, prisoners of their heroism as their comrades pressed in behind them.

Then splinters of wood flew as the door exploded.

Brightened by the darkness behind them, fiery eyes glowed and slowly grew as the daiyoukai approached.

Torrents of youki whipped at the warriors, tugging at their bodies and drowning out the commands of their leaders. Then he leapt forward out of the shadows. Transforming in midair, he swelled in size and shape. Red fur coated his body as it stretched and filled out. And his face grew long with a maw lined with sharp teeth. Sliding across the gravel, an enormous dog landed behind the army.

As tall as the pagoda itself, the daiyoukai growled viciously at the masses trembling before him, acid dripping from his jaws. It splashed on the ground, soaking the line of men closest to him. Dissolving in a hiss of green smoke, they melted into puddles of liquefied flesh and bone.

A growl rumbled from his throat and the ground shuddered with it. Shaken loose by the vibration, tiles slid off the eaves of the buildings and shattered with ringing clatters. Mesmerized by fear, the masks of a hundred warriors stared up at him and the rage that flared around him.

Then with an ear shattering bark, he leapt forward.

Like ragged dolls, guards flew from the force of his impact while others were crushed under his paws. Reaching down into the swarm, he snapped up a few, their screams silenced with the crunch of his jaws. Greedily, he swallowed them down, feeling his power strengthening with every gulp. Their swords resembling tiny needles, some desperately stabbed through his thick fur to prick his flesh. Those who were more daring attempted to climb his legs, trying to find someplace vital to attack. He kicked out, tossing them away, and then snapped up more to gorge on.

With lethal grace, he continued to dance among them, snatching mouthfuls and crushing the rest.

With the tide against them, the remnants of the army began to scatter. Refusing to spare a single life, he ran them down and tortured them for their cowardice. A few hid in the surrounding buildings, but plaster and thatched roofs proved just as deadly as acidic jaws when he trampled their havens.

Soon, only one remained, the one he wanted the most, but Jianyu was nowhere to be found. Senses heightened from feeding, he lifted his gore-drenched head up and scented the air.

OOOOOOOOOO

Panting heavily, Jianyu dabbed his forehead with a swatch of silk, soaking up his sweat. Ahead of him was the torii gate. Turning to the side, he looked back up at the crest of the stairs he had fled down. The terrified screams of dying men had ended and now the graying night was empty but for an eerie, unnatural silence. Even with his formidable army, an assured victory was lost and precipitated by none other than some priestess. He cursed under his breath. Years of work were gone, and his carefully crafted kingdom had come crumbling down all in one evening.

His gaze turned back down the hillside. Now he stood at the brink of escape and his feet refused to move.

Beyond the magic-imbued torii gate were those they had yet to catch. The forests teemed with angry demons, all waiting to exact revenge. Wise and patient, they had hid themselves from his hunting parties. The shrine itself was the perfect sanctuary. The barrier originating from the gate concealed the base from all who ventured near, preventing ambushes and allowing them to complete their work without constant fear. Their refuge, however, was now being destroyed by that fear and he had a decision to make. Hide here within the confines of the barrier or venture out into the forest and hope that he could survive long enough to reach help. Neither option bode well for him, but he sucked in his breath as he summoned his courage. He had survived worse odds when he had traveled the seas. He wouldn't die here, not when there was so much more to do.

A sharp pain struck his knee, and he yelped as he collapsed. Blood seeped through his expensive robe, flowering into bright designs as it trickled down his leg. Just behind him, he spied tones of red and silver. He sighed.

"Ancient beasts have no place in this world anymore, Prometheus," he growled, his voice raspy with pain. "The gods have condemned you, and it's only a matter of time before you fall like the others."

"That may be. Perhaps we youkai are condemned," Sesshoumaru said coolly.

Passing Jianyu, he headed down the stairs towards the torii gate. Stopping beside one of its large supports, he placed his hands against it and pushed. The wood creaked and whined as it cracked. And then it fell, breaking away from its foundation to leave a splintered stump. The weight too great for the adjacent support, the other side gave in, and the entire gate collapsed with a loud bang. Flickering brilliantly, the magic that emanated from it dissolved, and a gust of wind rushed up the stairs.

Leaves and twigs fluttering past him, Sesshoumaru turned on his heel, his eyes gleaming as he looked back at Jianyu. "Perhaps, the gods do hate us, and so intend our demise. But you are no god, and your death shall come before mine."

The daiyoukai climbed up the stairs, his pace slow and deliberate.

Trembling, Jianyu bit his tongue and closed his eyes.

Silence.

Licking his lips, time bloated while Jianyu waited. Then he peeked out and found nothing but the rustling forest.

The daiyoukai was gone.

He let out a shuddering sigh which quickly transformed into a delirious smile. Had the beast spared him? The notion of compassion from a demon seemed too farfetched for his mind to comprehend, and he sat stunned for a few moments.

Then his smile faded as he spied a pair red lights glowing from the trees. Burning eyes, they glared at him. Then another set appeared. A galaxy of stars winked along the edge of the woods, followed by twisted growls and yips that drowned the quiet.

"No," he whispered as black shapes slithered out onto the road, heading towards him.

Then his shrill screams split the night.

OOOOOOOOOO

Stirring with a groan, Kagome woke from an exhausting sleep. Her back and shoulder throbbing, she winced as she sat up. Her fingers fumbled as she slipped them beneath her coat to feel for the bandages that bound around her chest. Her mind hovered in a haze. She was surrounded by crates and bottles in the strange room.

A startled gasp escaped her.

Sesshoumaru stood a few steps away, his eyes menacing as he stared at her.

Despite being dressed neatly in his silk, armor, and swords, his blood-drenched skin and sticky tendrils of hair brought the night's events roiling to the forefront of her mind. Nausea overwhelmed her and the room began to spin. Her hand found her forehead and she cradled it gently. The ruthless hunters and their divine purpose, Inuyasha's death and the feel of the needle piercing through Kioshi's heart. It all churned together until hopelessness corroded her stomach.

Then amid all the pain and confusion, there was Sesshoumaru, bringing reason with his cruelty. Neither evil nor good, he offered her a path that divided no one, but by life or death. She had chosen it. Embraced it. And she hoped that she would soon pay for it.

"Why am I alive?" she asked.

He remained silent.

"Why did you save me? I should be dead, and I know that they didn't dress my wounds.

Silence.

"You swore to kill me."

"I had questions," he replied finally.

"Questions?"

He nodded.

"I don't understand."

"I swore to kill you," he explained, "I'm still tempted to do so. Your ignorance and misguided justice have inflicted more pain and humiliation upon me than any other person. Your death seems required. Yet, even as this is certain, you freed me. Why?"

Speechless for a moment, she sat on the table perplexed.

"Why?" she repeated.

"Yes. Why free the one who has promised to kill you? You slew one of your own kind and severed my binds at the risk of your life, so that I would have the opportunity to survive. Why did you do that?"

"Because, it was right."

"Right?"

"You told me that there was no way to choose between youkai and humans. That both are equally flawed and neither side is better than the other. That the only way to choose without bias was to judge everyone equally. To be willing to save or kill someone no matter who or what they are."

"And you killed," he concluded.

"She was going to cut out your liver again. They were going to use your body to harvest parts over and over. They even…" She stifled a sob. "They even fed you him, thinking it would keep you alive longer. I just couldn't let them do it anymore. No one deserves it. No matter the reason."

He hummed.

"Are you satisfied? Are you going to kill me now?"

His eyes narrowed.

"I was ready to die then," she explained. "I had hoped you would. I'm still ready."

A long silence passed as he examined her resolve, seeing what she was really asking for.

Then he snorted and reached for Kioshi's dagger secured in his sash. He turned it over in his palm and tossed it to her.

She caught it and looked up at him.

"I'm not a tool," he vowed, "And enough have died by my hand tonight. If this world is unbearable, then make your own future, through death or life."

Swallowing, her gaze fell to the dagger, torn again with indecision.

"The world however," he added, walking towards an oil lamp on the wall, "Needs wisdom, and it would be a pity if the deaths of this night were wasted with only one to remember them."

"I didn't know it was him," she blurted out. "On my foot, I didn't know."

"I know that now."

He yanked the lamp free and poured the oil over the nearest table. Considering the flickering wick for a moment, he then set it to the spilt oil and the wood flared up in a blaze. Swiftly, he ripped out another lamp and set fire to another corner.

Wordlessly, she slid off the table and followed his example. Together, they doused the room with flames.

Filling up with smoke, the air grew gray and thick. The gorging fire licked the ceiling as it swelled, turning into a fiery torrent. Mesmerized by it, she ignored how its heat baked her skin, her mind too absorbed by its loud crackling. Something tugged at her sleeve and she blinked back to reality.

"We must go," Sesshoumaru advised, wooden beams creaking above them.

She nodded.

And together they fled the pagoda.

Out into the yellow light of dawn, they escaped. When they were a safe distance away, they turned around to watch. Black smoke billowed out its windows. On the roof, streams of tiles fell, chiming as they struck the ground. Then with a loud whine, the eaves tumbled down and the roof caved in. Crashing and crumbling, the pagoda collapsed.

In silence, they watched the pyre burn until only wisps of smoke remained. Behind them, the sun peeked above the horizon, burning away the dark night with the warmth of its light. Turning to the side, she let its rays bathe her face, and her hand slipped into her sleeve to feel for the oily bandage. Something to bury.

"I thought this night would never end," she said aloud, squeezing it as she thought about firerat fur. "For however long I live, I know that I'll be grieving him. But I think I'll remember this sunrise before anything else about this night. To fill in the hole he leaves with peace and hope."

"Sunrise?" he replied, sorrow in his voice, "When the sun touches the horizon, sunrise and sunset can often only be determined by direction. Is it in the east or is it in the west? Our world is changing. For you, for humanity, it may be the east, but for youkaikind, this sun only sets."

Desperately, she wanted to object, to argue for the hope she needed to believe in. Instead, she remained silent and he walked away, heading towards the sun, his once proud shoulders bowed.

End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Thoughts
> 
> Devour Prometheus at its core is about when ecological collapse meets social stratification. It's about the extinction event that was Naraku, and a silent war that's speeding the inevitable along. But it's also about how we assign the status of 'other' to people to justify our actions, actions that can be just as cruel as what we accuse them of doing. And strangely, this story feels more pertinent every day that passes as we find new ways to divide our communities to justify abuse. To justify how we use them up and consume them.


End file.
